Forgotten Letter- The Answer

She sits there quietly and impatiently,
Looking around, left and right she turns anxiously,
She searches with her eyes, taps her feet and glances at her watch.

The sun moves slowly across the sky,
As the clouds are shuffled across the horizon,
The trees sway by that same force.

Her forehead wrinkles in worry,
Unhappiness surrounds her,
As, she begins to hang her head in disappointment.

She begins to question herself,
Looking to heavens for her sign,
But is does not come.

The water glistens in front of her as she walks toward its edge,
She crumbles something small, white
Throwing it a short distance into the water as a teardrop rolls down her face.

She slowly turns away and walks off into the distance,
I watch her while she disappears into my memories,
I reach into the water drawing the object she threw in,
Unfolding it, I try to make out the letter’s notations…

The deep black ink runs down the paper,
Soggy, sodden, letters fading
Like the memory of the lonely girl
Whose pain was drenched between the lines.

The heading is gone,
The first paragraph too,
But, I vaguely decipher the dying poem.

I swear to you I’ve grown up,
My life is as straight as a pin
And I know that you’re the only one for me Please give me a chance again.

I never mean to hurt you,
I’m serious as can be,
Let me prove my love to you,
At our lake at half past three.
I’ll buy your favorite flowers
Greet you with contrite kisses
Let me have another chance
To show how great my love is.

There the inks is blotted,
I can barely read the words,
But I know now she was waiting for love.

I read phrases about forgiveness
For the cheating and the lies,
I know he’s hurt her horribly.

I lay the note back in its watery grave
Watching it sail away with the ripples
And I walk slowly, pondering.

What happened to this man
And what of the love he talked about?
Maybe he thought it a waste, yet she came.

I walk ahead, cobblestone paths
Rose petals all around,
Scattered bunches of dying flowers
And the cobblestone is bleeding
The bushes conceal a lover…

Days roll by,
Yet still I cannot forget what I saw and read,
Her story haunts me so.

When I close my eyes, I picture her,
Returning each day to that pond,
Hoping to find the one she holds on to,
But she does not.

Everyday more time wasted,
Every evening filled with sorry and anger,
Trapped by her love,
Cover by its shadow.

Why does she do it?
Torture herself so,
Why can she not move on?
Then one day an average Sunday afternoon I introduced myself.

I told how I have been watching her since that day,
I narrated to her how I came to read her story,
I apologized for intrusion,
I held her in a reassuring embrace.

With tears in her eyes and teardrops streaming down her face,
She asked me, “Why?”
I ask my self that same question,
I have yet not gotten an answer.

I wiped her face,
I stroked her hair,
I caressed her skin.

I sat her down and told her my story,
Of how I was hurt in year gone past,
I explained each mark left on my heart,
I showed her that I carry them with me.

We talked long into the evening,
We did notice the sky change,
Blues fade into the deep purple of the night,
Sunlight replaced by the street lap lining the walkway.

I breeze blew from over the hills,
Across the darkened lake,
Through the pine trees then,
Surrounded us.

That moment was like no other,
I look into her tired eyes filled with all that pain and suffering,
Took her hand in mine,
Whispering a few words into her ear.

I brushed her hair away from her face,
Placing it behind her ear,
In that same moment stroking her face gently.

I hear the night all around me,
I feel the passion in the air,
I slowly lean forward into her face and press my lip against hers.

In that moment, we fell nothing but the passion,
The burn fire that was within us,
It all culminates in that moment,
And I say softly to her I will never hurt you again.

Co-written by: Jemuel K. Griffith (the PolitikPoet) & Crystine R.A. Alvarez (the Lyricist)