A Letter From Harry
Whenever my nib is ready to write,
I stop, to think and to create,
There comes phrases swinging in my brain,
But when it comes to heart,
It says," it's not worth the pain".
Ink in the pot is about to dry,
But still not able to find the terms crystal proper,
Yet not finished with the letter.
But can't stop thinking of you,
Your heart beat is my music,
Your breath and smell puts me to bed.
The poor late me will miss you,
But always wish to see you happy,
Will be the child that you carry,
Love from Harry.