𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐀 /𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐌

𝗨𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗟𝗘𝗗

                          

                I confess my love to you.
                   But in my confession,
          my heart was wounded by you.
    
                            Who am I,
                                right?
                  A lowly lady unpopular
                        and talentless.
                        But why, Dear?
             Whenever the famous lady
    in the field of writing approaches you,
                      you pay attention.

            Maybe because she is famous
                        and well known.
         It hurts to think about it, my Dear.
           
               Especially since everything
                          is clear to me.
                    Maybe you are right,
                        a man like you,
         only deserves a woman like her.