every song i hear
every note; a thought of you
millions upon millions but still they cannot nearly form your song
every breath; about you
is a death i die without you
months of living but i think you know how little alive i am
every laugh; a heaven
every tear a hell
we've talked and talked though far apart but i still want nothing else
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem