I cry about being insufficient, and for failing,
I cry about not having you, or being able to kiss you,
I cry about what you do to yourself, what you think,
I cry about the pain I inflict to take away the hurt,
I cry about living a lie because the truth might be fatal,
I cry about everything you are that you won't show me,
I cry about you crying, and not knowing why.
What do you cry about? Why can't I help you?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem