I'm too lazy to write
good poems.
Writing gets in my way,
it ruins my other dreams.
I can't allow myself
to think
of love
too much.
I'm too ugly to have a lover.
You'd be frightened of
what you'd have to face
inside my heart,
if you'd see my real shape
if I'd take off my clothes
and become
ordinary.
I'm too miserable to ever
become
what you want of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem