Italian Poet
Unrelenting dark rain
Drenches the downcast heart;
But the days would seem pleasant
And not sorrow-tinged
If I could only forget
The allure of her eyes
And the scent of her hair:
Then I would not dream foolish dreams
And I would not reel in such despair.
Lovesick for prolonged months,
I fear I’m becoming an Italian poet.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Added by Poetry Lover
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