Crave, we do, for blissful days,
For nights that quench our lust,
For spring times blossom scented air
And winters' cosy fire side glare,
But it is not what's meant to be,
When you're not sharing space with me,
My place can only ever be,
With you entirely, completely.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem