Dear Love,
Here I am, missing you, as I sit on Lone Man's Cliff,
thinking and drifting away with my sorrowful thoughts.
Will you forgive me?

I watch the fading sun
slowly settle
down,
Darkening the sky to a lovely shade of purple.
As well as three faded-out clouds slowly inch by
as though the sky's filled with syrup
slowing down their puffy movement.

The chilling air rustles the fresh, spring-like trees
that sit and watch from behind me.
Floating around the scent of the natural river
that is as full as all the tears I’ve shed.

I stay sitting here, all alone on my old patch-work blanket
Finally understanding songs of heartbreak
And tuning out the ones of love, on my solitary radio.

Taking a sip of my now warm soda,
but before I know it, the can is empty.
So I pick up my old, worn-out notebook
that brings back so many memories;
and scribble away with my pencil
hoping that he will actually read my letter,
even after what I’d done to him.

I plead with my apology and sign the letter.
I told him I was sorry for the words I'd said
they came out of nowhere, and yet, from my head
they also came from my lips that ached for his.

Now I'm sitting here, above the highway
on Lone Man's Cliff, smelling the war
of stifling breezes, of nature versus cars.
Figuring out a way to get him this letter
So he'd forgive me, maybe, for what I'd said
In our furious flash of a fight.
Will he forgive me?