This is bad news,
as I walk along the beach,
looking up at the night sky,
I think, if you looked up
right now
we would be looking at
the same stars.
It's so romantic here,
and I can't help but wish
you were here
so I could hold your hand
as we walked through palm trees.
This is bad news.
As I lie in bed,
I cuddle your shirt,
trying to breathe your scent.
I wish you were
lying beside me
so I could put my arm
around you
and fall asleep
instead of thinking of you.
This is definitely
bad news.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem