Signed "with love"

I am a piece of paper
Light pink with a tiny rose at the corner,
Waiting to be written on.

The wait is long now, it was different before.
These days, I know I am not needed any more..................

Before,
When she picked me gently up,
Her excited heart beat I could hear,
As she sat with a pen in her hand,
Excitement and anticipation, hard to bear
I could see her flushed face,
Trying to weave her thoughts in line,
A slight tremble of hand as the pen touched me ,
Flowing emotions, the pleasure was all mine.
The occasional breaks, as the pen paused,
Fond memories made her smile,
The hug, the kiss, the endearments,
I could share the intimacies, all the while.
A drop of tear, a smudge on the ink,
As she wrote "yours and yours only"
Blurred vision with more drops to come,
If only I could hug her tight, she was sad and lonely.
It was signed "with love", and then a small hesitation before she let me go,
Sealed with a kiss one last time, I was carrying her heart, you know.

Today,
There is a keyboard and you just have to "type"
Life has options, you can "chat" or you can "skype".
"Friends" are "added" with a "request" all the while;
"Smileys" are "entered" to show that you smile,
The "mouse" these days is stronger than the pen;

I lay unhappy in the dark store room waiting,
Till someone picks up the pen again...................