I miss those good old days
when I looked into your curious eyes
and came up with a poem for that pretty little face.
My favorite pen has always been in love with you;
it spilled poems whenever I dreamt of you.
Everyone looks into a broken heart for an empty place,
only to realize later that it has limited space.
Unexpectedly, I begin to live
in my very own fantasy land,
holding your hand,
walking together near the shores of love,
waiting for unplanned hugs and kisses
from my beloved princess.
Every cold night was brand new for the moon.
It was pleasant, like your soothing croon.
My wretched soul flips at the sight of your crimson lips.
Give me a never-ending night, and I will read you,
without skipping a word.