I have this bad habit
Of always wanting people
To notice
To recognise
To validate
My actions
My thoughts and
My characteristics
And no matter how many times I asked
Seldom would I get the answers
I wanted to hear
The truth about being lonely
You can never share your thoughts
With others
At any time that you desire
Sometimes
You trick others
Into listening to your frustration
When in the first place
They thought
You were spending time with them
Out of pure enjoyment
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very true and well written.