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.