That guy took my place, it should have been me,
Featured in your photos on top of the TV,
I'm jealous of you and the man I never met,
We should have been together Alice, is it too late for regret?
Or, too early, has our game not been played?
I've got a feeling I missed my chance when I never stayed.
Is that corner just for me, Alice;
The one by the door?
Don't make myself comfortable, right?
I belong on the floor.
I should have been sat with your father,
At those family dos,
Out in the Cotswolds,
With ironic Ps and Qs
I miss your shin, Alice, I miss what we didn't have,
I dream about you all the time, when I'm awake,
I suppose you would consider that sad.
But, really, do you like that type of music?
With stupid beats, whistles, and drums?
I could never abide that,
Perhaps that's why we had no fun.
So, solong, Alice, here's to where I should be,
Instead I write bad poetry without heart or melody.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem