I see her staring at me through the window,
wondering if she knows i'm gazing back.
I can see her pain but can she feel mine?
Winter is when we first met,
Why is it that I can't recollect.
Autumn I can recall,
this is when she laid it all.
Spring for her a much better time,
countenance colors dressed in Silver Lime.
Summer, what more could I say,
these where our greatest days.
I wish your still here when I'm gone,
to tell our stories in a thousand songs.
Even if you don't care.
I do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem