There are times
I weap.
Missing you
Is more than I keep.
The locket from you
Without I suffer restless sleep.
Cluching it
I am filled
With peace.
For your image
Inside heals
My heart
When it aches.
This poem is for my father, David Clide August Campbell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem