How bereft am I
when you are
out of sight;
how cold
can be
a day
without
your voice.
had I the choice
your voice would live
within the corridors of my brain
and then could I pluck
those tones
and words
that water my
parched
and barren ground.
imagine now
if you can
how bereft I feel
without my man
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is a fantastic poem i like it..pl.read my new poem 'how did they dare..? '