I Used To Write Letters

I used to write letters,
long rambles with care.
Joys in great spirals of all that I'd done,
in blue ink on paper that crisped as I wrote.
I used to find writing fun.

I loved drawing pictures and smiles in my words,
and making up jokes for the people I knew.

But now I don't want to.
I can't find the time,
can't really put reasons to why.
I used to write letters that went on and on,
but I don't any more.
The desire is gone.
It just went away,
like a lost honey bee;
so now in the evenings
I write poems to me.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.