what foul heart would condem me to such a thing
to face you each day with an unwavering grin?
to behold your face and not hold it in my hands
to have to watch or hear you talk of other women?
i watch with a burning heat rising from my wretched heart and reaching my feet.
i watch in utter defeat as you talk and confide in me while i drink in each word, trying to make you understand.
but you cannot have me, or i you.
so it seems i must find a way over you.
my sexy little obsticle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem