Dear Thomas

I don't really know what to write though you'd think I would
Since I talked to you the least that I possibly could
I Love You, Dear Thomas, I really do
But all the same I don't like the things you do
You did such a stupid thing, when you came back you were new
You came home a different person, I liked the old you
The one who picked me up and spun me round
Whose every hug a gentle love was found
He made me laugh by being weird
He scratched my face with his prickly beard
I loved that guy with all my heart
But that prison tore him apart
That cage killed him, all evidence lost
The last I have of him is on that cross
My brother left but was so kind
To leave this little cross behind

Maybe if you wear this cross
And think of what used to be
The Tom I loved, The brother I lost
Will finally Write back to me