Wild Love/Book Of Poems.

The lonely post office ( pt1)

I saw ripped letters on the street
Neatly hand written but old
With foot prints all over them
And deepest feelings to hold,
The tip burnt by a candle
And covered with stain of ink
The signatures that hasn't fade
Would make anybody think,
That they were once memories
Of people with pretty soul
Left in the darkest rooms
Forgotten to reach their home,
Struggling with the wind
Trying to take them away
Away from their home land
Away from the good old day