On nights like this
When the wind blows ever so gently
Rustling the leaves high in the trees
Beckoning the coming of fall
I feel your preasence
Reminding me of
The person you once were
The person I'll never be
I feel your hand caress my face
An illusion created by the wind
The wind rushes through
My long brown hair
Whispering quietly in my ear
He will always love you
His death doesn't change that
Brining tears to my eyes
I miss you the most of all
On nights like these
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem