This Cold Heart Poem by Ibn Ali

I am my misgivings
My fortune's envy
I feel I'm less for living more
My peaks are all remembered
Is it too late
I see the ashes blanketing the embers
But in wise enough to know there's still heat
How can I survive this weak
My hypocrisy's well known to me
There's no comfort in a stranger's arms
But true critique resides in stranger's lips
And that's comforting to me
We all for from exhaustion
Our hearts get tired of beating
Our limbs get old and weakened
Disappointment takes its toll
We either give too much or not enough
Sullied fingerprints stain all the lives we've touched
Each line so intimately intricate
We'd recognise it's us
Regret is that stranger on the porch
Asking for room and board
And all it took was charm to get him through the door
This cold heart of mine
Behind this cold-hearted smile
What will make it warm