Sometimes I wonder Madeline
sweet, innocent girl
why I did not make you mine?
I still see your soft brown hair twirl
and in thoughts I am still lost
in the deepness of your dark-brown eyes,
sometimes I can touch you almost,
as if you are with me after all the goodbyes.
Our love was never really expressed
but burnt with a kind of intensity
and in your companionship I was blessed,
in your pure sincerity
and maybe I will wonder forevermore about a passionate kiss,
about how it would have been to be with you in sweet bliss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem