I hate these cravings,
they will not stop,
never satisfied,
even when answered,
these things,
they never deliver,
unfulfilled promises,
I succumb to their power,
again and again,
you would think i would learn,
but the promise is beautiful,
so alluring these lies,
with their voices of honey,
weaving a portrait of silk,
a false fantasy,
i must learn to see through.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem