Don't read this...

I can create a nice poem, but you'll never critique it.

I can film an amazing movie, but you'll never watch it.

I can shoot the best photo, but you'll never see it.

I can write a meaningful story, but you'll never read it.

I can sing a pretty song, but you'll never hear it.

I can try to give a hug, but you'll never feel it.

I can make a gourmet meal, but you'll never taste it.

I can wear a fine perfume, but you'll never smell it.

I can make a statement, but you'll never acknowledge it.

 

But, all things considered, the neglect of what I hold dear isn't your fault.

How are you supposed to know what has never been presented?

It's all on me; that I have trouble showing

the wonders inside the locked heart.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is partially a criticism of myself, as in how I sometimes get upset at others when they don't seem to show interest in something, yet I never really made light of the fact that I wanted them to be interested in the first place...

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