I created poems of what I feel,
I'm certain and my intentions are clear,
I write poems for I know how to deal,
That love is clear but what happen dear?

I guess I expect so much of satisfaction,
What I feel is just the beginning of attraction,
Here I am wondering if this feeling are merely a fiction,
For I don't know if love is purely with white intention.

I created poems for free and full of honesty,
I'm scared of telling the truth that it will hurt my destiny,
A sad poet was once happy,
For she expects something and now she feels grumpy.

She viewed things differently,
Guess what, love won't work out on her way,
I hope this sad poet will live happily,
In her kingdom of foggy day.

The sad poet is not available,
For people who do not consider her as valuable,
That love is not fun,
That this poet is not ready to hide and run.

Her way of love is serious,
Everything for her is precious,
Love her for she is curious,
If love is really mysterious.