I sat alone watching the storm roll in,
Dark clouds above my head,
Thinking of all the places I have been,
Dark thoughts within my head,

I speak to myself constantly,
In words that some might call poetry,
But I’ll never suffer, so I can write,
I suffer, so then I write,

I think of you, like me, sitting patiently,
Perhaps you never knew the cost,
When you made that careless toss,
Alone on that stone you feel only loss,

So often these words are put down for my love,
My true love, for there’s no one above,
It might come as a surprise,
True love is your eyes,

Unrequited, I’ll never see,
Those orbs that are scanning, seeking meaning,
While I lay out my verses, my way of self-cleaning,
I give all who read a part of me,

It is you that I love,
You who reads,
You who hurts, and you who bleeds,
All I can promise is that I say what I mean,

So for you I leave these little notes,
Love letters,
In fairest or foulest or temperate weather,

This part of me may be yours and you never knew,
This part of me,
Might be a part of you.