No one truly ever knows, if, or where or when
But, something might occur and we won't ever meet again,
Our dreams and our hopes and our fantasies they might not ever mature
Then and only then we will realize, that life is but a quick detour.
I might be that man that wants to excite and also to tease
But, you might see me as funny or as a pest across these mighty seas,
You might be a princess that's locked away in a high stone tower
That is why in this life, we must live for that one exact hour.
I am in a faraway country and again we might not ever again meet
So, I think of you constantly as sitting next to me in that one empty seat
I think of all of the kisses and pleasures I missed out giving to you
Now will I become a dream, and my thoughts become your tissue.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem