Photo by Benjamin Zhao on Unsplash
I put a letter in your mailbox
On a Thursday afternoon.
Friday comes, I check my mailbox,
To find nothing from you.
Saturday, you’ve gone away.
Sunday brings nothing new.
I check it faithfully every day,
Hoping to hear from you.
Every time I pass your mailbox,
I notice the flag is down.
And I’m starting to hear stories
Saying that you’re moving out.
Monday, what can I say,
Tuesday I’ve got the blues.
Wondering why you’d disappear
Without giving me the news.
I put a letter in your mailbox
On a Wednesday afternoon.
Thursday comes, I check my mailbox,
To find all my letters to you.
About the Creator
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