A Letter I Never Sent

I wrote a letter I never sent,

Folded neatly with love unspent.

Words poured out in ink-stained streams,

A quiet voice from broken dreams.

I started with, “I miss you still,”

My heart unsure, my hands too still.

You left a silence in my chest,

A space where love once took its rest.

I told you how the days went by,

How sunsets burned without goodbye.

How laughter felt like distant noise,

A muted song without its voice.

I asked if you still drink your tea

With sugar stirred so clumsily.

Do you still hum that same old tune

While dancing softly with the moon?

I wrote of moments left behind—

Your crooked smile, your stubborn mind.

Of promises that time forgot,

Of letters burned and wars we fought.

I said, “I’m sorry for the fight.”

The words I said, I know weren’t right.

I let my pride outrun my grace,

And now regret has found its place.

I ended it with trembling hand:

“I hope you’re well. I understand.

Some things aren’t meant to stay or mend,

But you were more than just a friend.”

I sealed the page and hid it deep,

Among the dreams I failed to keep.

But every word still lives in me,

An echo of what couldn’t be.

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Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi