solitude stands in the bar door
the place i go to find her
her lips like wine
why don't i love you more?
i could answer you call everyday
but i fear you
your dark side
the last few trists have been wonderful
your dark side
but we've never talked this much before
perhaps i only had to strike up the conversation
or listen to your thoughts
your dark side
3. Lacks imagery. Tells, doesn't show. Some errors - for example, 'trists' should be 'trysts.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It does not capture me at all. I think it could use some work of the words to fix it.