I had a letter for you-
i dropped it at your mail box,
hope you had the slightest chance of reading it

i know it wouldn't speak for itself
but it i tell you it was worth reading
than your Othello
and your book of arabesque -

i need not to blame my words
for they were just constructs,
for you still have the last say
to read or ignore

but i guess
the answer was obvious,
"yeah right, thank you anyway"--

just this morning I saw my letter
soaked in the rain

my words blotted
as heaven's tears devoured the paper,

sometimes, people are just too busy
to take notice of small things,
small details
to the point that everything is neglected,
and treated
only like whispers of the wind

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