letters to no one

I met a girl at camp one year,
she was really dear,
we only had a week to talk,
and that brought a tear
to both our eyes as the end of camp grew near.
we decided to keep in touch
the only way we knew
for about three years we wrote,
then one day she stopped writing me,
and I knew not what to do,
so I kept writing her far into my life,
thirty years had gone, and still was no reply.
then one day I heard a knock on my front door,
which surprised me as I have family, friends, or neighbours near
I opened it and there stood a man I've never met
he stared a bit then finally said
"is your name Keaton Bullett, who's written letters for many years?"
I said yes sir that is I but may I ask your name?
to most I'm the just the messenger I know no other name, he said
I invited him into my home to have a cup of tea.
it looked to me as he had some very grave news for me.
I said "tell me sir, what is the news that you desperately need to tell?"
he paused for a long while then stood and said,
"the girl you've written for all these years, has long since been dead
she walked across the street one night, yet did not all the way.
now good sir I must bide you good day for I many more maters to tend."
it crushed now that I knew
that what I feared was true
that girl I met was dead for years,
that's why she never wrote.

(sorry if too depressing, that's just the way I write. please give honest comments, whether good or bad. thanks for reading!!  )