I still shudder, in the memory
Of every night you would hold me
You'd cradle me, warm in your arms
Trace the patterns on my palms
One morning I did wake, to find
I thought that I may have been blind
For you were gone, from my reach
Wandered off, down by the beach
For nights I cried, my eyes were red
I wished that I were truely dead
I wished you'd come back, to my hold
I wish it wasnt always so cold
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem