Keep complaining,
Saying what you want,
My love for you is dying,
And that cannot be fought.
I am compelled to share my secret,
Of how I do not love you so,
Or for my love of another just keeps seeming to grow.
So I look at you deeply,
Lie like it’s the truth,
But I must bare the awful thought that I just cannot love you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well written strong piece...thank you