Home again and alone again
always trying to feel there and back at the end.
Dreams of these summers we ran to the Old Pine afar
haunt as love lingers with years to wound or scar.
To write rainy rays and so many dusks to drown
one day I'll feel the journey is right, the loneliness gone.
O.C.W
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem