Jan 2021
A year has passed,
and I am still writing
poems—pleas—for her
Three years,
and my stubborn heart
still yearns for hers
It has been so long,
and I fear I may have
dreamt you, dear one
and I am still writing
poems—pleas—for her
Three years,
and my stubborn heart
still yearns for hers
It has been so long,
and I fear I may have
dreamt you, dear one
