A tear stained heart filled each page,
if you read beyond the words.
My heart poured out,
to you,
my friend,
a hidden message behind every word.
The words,
written with much more then ink,
my heart,
my soul,
they came from deep within.
Dear friend,
there is so much to say,
I wish I had the words,
to share with you,
some more of me,
my heart,
my hopes,
my tears.
My friend,
I wish that I could say,
be real,
from deep within,
and share with you,
some more of me,
and who I really am.
My friend,
did you not know,
that I had prayed that you would come,
and yet,
while close,
so far away,
for,
my friend,
I know not how to share.
Dear friend,
I wish that I could say,
that I could tell you who I am,
to share,
my life,
my pain,
I wish I had a friend.
I know that you are there,
and yet,
I know not how to ask,
my wish,
my prayer,
is that you would ask me first.
So my friend,
I do not know,
if really I am ok,
I just don't know,
how can I share,
what I so long to say.
My friend,
I have seen you there,
and I know how you so care,
I wish I knew,
how to reach out,
to you my friend,
to tell you what I wish to share.
And so my friend,
I give to you,
this letter,
full of pain,
for I know not how to share with you,
that I wish for you to stay.
Dear friend,
my heart is crying,
longing for you to come,
and yet,
my friend,
I know not how,
I know not how to ask.
And so,
this letter I write to you,
from my heart within,
and yet,
my friend,
I do not know how,
how to begin.
Where to start,
there is so much I wish to say,
to share with you,
my heart,
my life,
my tears.
My friend,
you always remain,
I know that you are there,
you care so much,
and I thank God for who you are.
And yet,
my friend,
I wish that I could ask,
that I could ask you to be my friend,
with love that comes from Christ alone,
to share as family in him.
So once more,
I come to write,
a letter sent to you,
and yet I know,
as I begin to write,
this letter,
I will never send.
My friend,
once more I come to pray,
to ask,
for a friend like you,
and yet,
I know not what to say.
My friend,
I ask of you,
is it so wrong,
to wish,
for a friend like you,
a friend,
to whom I could be real,
to whom I could be me.
My friend,
I feel so selfish,
for my worries are so few,
I feel like they are nothing,
and yet,
alone,
how big they seem to be.
I just desire,
to have a friend,
to whom I can be me,
to laugh,
to cry,
to share,
what really matters to me.
My friend,
I feel so silly,
for I shouldn't need to cry,
my life seems so perfect,
compared to so many others I see.
And so my friend,
here I am,
alone,
or so it seems,
for my friend,
I do not feel that I should need,
to ask,
that you would be there for me.
My friend,
I know no more,
what I wish to say,
as I sit here and write,
with tears streaming down my face.
My friend,
I feel so alone,
broken deep inside,
and yet,
the battle continues within,
for,
I should not need to ask.
My friend,
sometimes,
I know not how to even pray,
how to come to my father,
to be real,
honest,
to be me.
And so once more,
I come to write to you,
my friend,
there is so much,
yet,
I know not where to start.
This letter,
filled with so much,
so much more than words,
my heart,
my life,
my hopes,
my tears.
My friend,
as my writting draws near a close,
I realise that,
I have not nearly begun.
My friend,
I wish,
for a friend like you,
once more I kneel,
down to pray,
this you would realise too.
My friend,
as this letter,
never will I send,
filled with me,
filled with tears,
honesty.
And so,
to conclude,
this letter to a friend,
my friend,
I know,
I wish I knew,
where I should begin.
Copyright ©
stephiesan
... [
2007-01-07 05:26:31]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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