Letters I Never Sent | The Long Way Home | Track 04-14 | 1970

I found a box behind the doorway, Dust asleep on folded years. Pages that forgot their meaning, Ink blurred soft from salted tears. Every word a quiet whisper From a life I tried to mend — Letters I never sent. And the room held its breath, Like it knew me then… Knew the roads I walked To find you again. These are the letters I never sent, Drifting through a broken moment. Every line a soft lament, Every promise bent. Still they rise in the fading light — Ghosts that glow when day turns night. These are the letters I never sent. A name scratched out in quiet anger, A line rewritten twice too slow. Half a melody left hanging Where the summer used to glow. I read them all with shaking fingers, Let the old world reinvent — Letters I never sent. Some truths never find their voice. Some roads never make their choice. But here you are, behind the glass — A shadow from the year that passed. These are the letters I never sent, Words that couldn’t bear their moment. Still they hum like an instrument, Still they represent All the pages where we lost our light… Yet somehow found our way to night. These are the letters I never sent.