To John H. Watson,
Roses have thorns,
Violets have few.
John, I'd do anything,
Even burn for you.
.
But now is not the time
For sentiments this way,
Because I still have
Many things to say.
.
I took to the ledge
To save you from me.
Didn't know what'd kill you
Is your undying loyalty.
.
I couldn't be what you wanted,
So you have to let me go.
Don't fill up my 'grave'
With regrets and woe.
.
The Reichenbach Fall
Boasts of my best.
Too bad you didn't know,
And laid me to rest.
.
But I'll 'rise' again soon,
And bring you along, too.
We'll rebuild our home,
Making each brick anew.
.
New house, new home,
But same old life.
We'll be at 221 always,
I'll ease all your strife.
.
Now I close my letter to you,
Pouring out every bit.
Signed, sealed, the whole shebang.
Too bad I'll never mail it…
-SH