Adorned with gifts of love,
I have never showered anyone in my loving delights,
yet so many yearn for it,
I see not the attraction,
A hurt and torn heart so small its barley there,
It's thought I offer much but in reality,
How can I give myself to someone,
when I haven't given me myself?
Crimson is that of a nobody,
Yet you still listen,
my words of love they glisten,
They shimmer in the eyes of those who want them,
I know not what I need,
Let alone a meager want.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem