I've been writing to you all along,
Half hoping for a reply.
But I never get any answers
And I know the reason why.
I've never addressed the letters;
Well, at least not to you.
As far as mailing is concerned,
I've withheld more than few.
I've scribbled and I've scratched,
Then gone and washed my hand.
To ensure erasure by waves,
I've even written in the sand.
I'm not looking for any answers
And I know the reason why.
Truth is... if you wrote back,
I wouldn't know what to reply.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
another marvelous piece...