LETTERS I'LL NEVER SEND

   

I write to speak,
Of feelings folded neat,
Of dreams untold,
And words left incomplete.

A letter — meant to travel far,
Needs an address, a name, a mark;
But mine — they linger, sealed within,
No stamp, no post, no destined kin.

To whom shall I write
When no one waits?
When the heart itself
Locks its gates?

Some are written out of fear,
Some in silence, held so near;
Some for love I’ll never claim,
Some for guilt without a name.

To the unknown, the lost, the dear,
To shadows I hold close and clear,
I write — not to be read or known,
But to whisper truth to my own.

These letters rest where secrets blend,
Pages of thoughts that never end.
They are my diary, my unseen friend —
The letters I’ll never send.