The title lies, my dear. For all you ever want are love poems. Perhaps if you had known me in a different time, before I forgot how to love, I could write a poem that would bring tears to your eyes. But you know me now, you only know me as I am, And it is childish, indeed, to believe that I could love you.
Be assured, it is not only you, for I am cold and cannot love a soul, Not even myself.