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To Whom It May Concern
To whom it may concern,
You've wandered into my brain,
engulfed with razorblades of pain.
The words are a portrait to my soul.
Each letter has taken its toll.
To whom it may concern,
As you read this poets text,
Please don't think it too complex.
All these phrases, flow like a river
out of my innerself.
We all age, like wine on the shelf.
To whom it may concern,
It is now my turn.
What are you getting out of this font?
Am I painting a cavas?
Fueling the fire?
Feeding a desire?
Making you fly higher?
To whom it may concern,
We all have test, in which we need to learn.
As our lives move on.
More tears then laughter.
What ever happened to "happily ever after"?
The match has been lit.
This pyre wil burn.
Salutations and best wishes.
To whom it may concern.
