i think of you,
when the wind starts to blow.
i think of you,
when the stars start to glow.
i think of you,
when the leaves turn red.
i think of you,
when i lie in my bed.
i think of you,
when it starts to rain.
you always called it,
"the prettiest of pain."
i think of you,
when I watch the clouds,
wishing you,
were here right now.
i think of you,
As I deal with my sorrow,
knowing you won't be with me,
but six feet below.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem