I found you,
So long after forgetting you.
At the bottom of
My last glass of whiskey.
There you were, with all your memories
Under a half melted ice cube
Hasn't your occupation ended?
I thought we had a deal to end it!
Why are you pursuing me,
Bombarding every thought in me.
In my glass, in my head
In my prayer and in my bed.
I beg you to leave me,
And not to besiege me.
But you have already gone,
Why does your presence linger on?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem Ida. We can't escape everyone. Phil