Although you are a friend of mine, and letters we exchange. I wouldn't know you on the street, and doesn't that seem strange?
You hold a place within my heart, unusual and unique; We share ideals and special dreams, and still, we do not speak.
I picture who I think you are, perhaps you picture me. An intriguing game for both of us, for someone we cannot see.
So for this friendship we possess, we owe this mail a debt. Perhaps the charm lies in the fact, that we have never met.
|
No comments:
Post a Comment