I've been told that I'm an ''open book''.
I leave nothing to guess.
If you asked me if it's true
I'd simply answer ''yes''.
But do you really know me?
Do you know what makes me cry?
Do you know what makes me giddy?
What it takes to make me sigh?
There may be many pages
to this simple little book
that perhaps may even shock you...
if I gave you time to look.
You'll never crack the binding.
You couldn't take the pain.
You'd worry of my sorrow
and the heartache would remain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem