Disclaimer: This is not a poem as I am in no way a poet. Instead, merely find a terse philosophical observation/correlation/comparison between the words a beloved has spoken, a hastily written note, and my heart at the moment.
You write care,
misspelled or illegible,
and strikethrough.
You write hope
only to scribble it out later
with thick, black lead.
You write love,
but the eraser-thinned paper gets
crumpled and thrown away.
My heart still reads
the impression
you left.
Blacke Cat Tales 
I can so relate to that over so many times.
*cough*poem*cough*
A damn good one too.
Did you not read the disclaimer? If I say it isn’t a poem, then it’s not a poem. Lol. But thank you. It means a lot coming from someone who actually is a poet.