To whom It may concern

I have lived life as honestly as one can,

With my head bent low and meager possessions in my hand.

I never did change the world

But I always spared a kind word

To whom it may concern.

I desired not money or accolade

Nor the praise of human lips

The pleasures of wine

Or slimmer hips

But I longed for a dance, or two

A glance across a crowded ballroom.

To whom it may concern.

I once yearned to read all the books in the world. 

Silly little girl.

Every story ever told

Is either love or war

Love and war

War turned love and love turned war

Love yearned or unreturned

I've no need to hear anymore.

What's left to do?

I tuck my hands in my pockets

And wonder what I might find there.

I walk barefoot. Grass between my toes,

Occasionally I stop to smell a rose.

I've achieved nothing but life

the warm feel of the sun on my spine.

Wordlessly, I exist.

There are no statues erected in my honour

My deeds don't inspire song

Soundlessly, I persist.

That persistence of old

That which once led man from cave

To building homes

No history book will document my battles

Nor soliloquy express my love.

But - I've said enough

To whom it may concern.