In the chill of night,
She lay in her cosy bed,
And thought back to days,
Of words unsaid,
If only she had told him,
She loved him,
How different things may have been,
If only she'd held him tight,
Her chance now,
Would never be,
Regretting,
But never forgetting,
For he was her lost love,
The love that would stay with her now,
And forever.
Jayne Davies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem