A heavy heart and distant eyes,
Have at last found a friendly voice
In times when the winds are cold;
Selfish expressions are bold,
Their only friend who care to inquire,
Are a pen and a piece of paper.
They inscribe their deepest sorrow,
The burden of each tomorrow,
In them they confide each secret,
When for an ear they are desperate.
The heart's expressions become ink,
Words flow, the eyes watch,
None stops to think.
More sincere than wordly peers,
An aid for the storm of hidden fears,
A relief for the troubled soul,
They are friends who listen, an console.
Never again the feelings are shrugged off,
They never seem to have had enough.
Soothing the dilemma of the unexpressed,
Easing the agony of the depressed.
Loyal friends, well-wishers,
A pen and a piece of paper.