The pen across the paper,
like a weapon of the solider,
The letter of each word,
shines like raindrops.
The words which I uttered,
feel the burn within myself.
When I write your name,
my eyes bore into yours.
But to whom I send this,
without your grant,
My breath hold a while,
with this letter in my hand!
Unsent Letter
Gavithri Yatigammana
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 08/18/2020
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Poem topics: breath, feel, grant, write, hold, paper, weapon, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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