Pens and Pages

I hope you still write her letters, I hope tears still fall from her eyes, Reading those letters she never found. And when you look at the letters you never sent, I hope it's her eyes that see the love wrapped, For they no longer need to know the words. But even when words fail to work magic, I hope you still believe in your letters... I hope you still write her letters But I hope you send the letters you wrote..

Like a cup of warm coffee Kept on his table from long, He takes a sip from me As he kills a little piece of my heart Every time he does. He then keeps the cup away. I long for him, hurt, For just one more sip, One more kiss, One more time together. "I promise I'll forget you," I lie. He gives it a thought, Reminiscing the last kiss. Bitter. He refuses. Another chance? He reconsiders. Our lips meet yet again... And while he takes the sip gently, Taking in all of me slowly, Killing a part of me as he does, I know it is not over Because after a little while I'd ask for another chance, He'd comply. I'd call it love, Knowing very well That someday the coffee will be cold, He will move on to another Cup of warm coffee Probably not as bitter As my so-called love.