Theres a sense of longing in me
As I read Rosemarys letter
Her writings honest
Cant forget the years shes lost
In isolation
She talks about her love
And as I read
Ill die alone
I know she was aching
Theres a certain detail seen here
The pen must have slipped to the side
And left a stain
Next to his name
She knew he was gone
And isolation
Is all that would remain
The wound in me is pouring out
To rest on a lovers shore