Autobiography of a Letter

I am a letter. 

Not one of the twenty-six 

Of the English alphabets, but a letter.

My length is often set to my tone.

Short is formal,

Informal, long.

I am what was

Distance met in written words.

I am what is forlorn.

For me lovers craved,

And a soldier's mother feared

Like a grave.

I delivered news,

And was likewise graced,

Kept, shred, forgotten.

I am a letter

Erstwhile precious,

Now, no more.