You came out of a dream,
and stood there before me,
inches away from the tips of my fingers. I
wanted to hold you,
but you were so near yet so far.
The impossible dream
that could never be.
The hurt in your eyes,
so evident to see.
Maybe one day
when the hurt goes away,
there maybe a chance.
We just have to wait and see,
and then you may not be
inches away from my fingertips.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sombre romantic piece about what might have been. You leave the reader wondering, and sad too - sharing your feeling of loss and yet strangely optimistic about the future too. Lovely poem. Allie xxxx