The sky is overcast and I've barely eaten these past few days.
I just lie in bed thinking of all the ways
I could have shown you that I love you.
Life can be oh so cold
And we go from being young to being old.
Now I will have to grow old by myself.
It matters not whether I am poor or have wealth.
I will have to spend my days and nights alone,
Without a woman calling me on the phone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem