There's a sense of longing in me

As I read Rosemary's letter

Her writing's honest

Can't forget the years she's lost

In isolation

She talks about her love

And as I read

I'll die alone

I know she was aching

There's a certain detail seen here

The pen must have slipped to the side

And left a stain

Next to his name

She knew he was gone

And isolation

Is all that would remain

The wound in me is pouring out

To rest on a lover's shore