Through Letters

Through frosted panes of Plexiglas
over prison yards devoid of grass
The morning waits to break through
As I sit and think and dream of you

My only taste of you is in letters
for I am bound by chaffing fetters
Your scent still lingers on the pages
carrying through these musty cages

Treasuring the idea that you care enough
to write me still and tell me about stuff
Even if it's to say you're moving on
and I'm no longer your useless pawn