Before I fall asleep.
I see your face in my mind so clearly,
I still feel your tender touch,
I remember the cwtches we had,
I miss them all so much.
When I hear a door creek at home,
I still call out your name,
Since the day you left,
It is definitely not the same.
Every day I sit down and cry,
And I ask the question, Why?
Such a loving person like you,
Was chosen to suffer and die.
I pray for you every night,
The memories of you I keep,
So your face is the last thing I see,
Before I fall asleep.
Written by David Boyce
DavidBoyce©2015
The word ' Cwtches ' shown in this poem is Welsh for Loving Hugs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem