Bring me the point of being adulation.
To love your lips, I earn some praise.
My tongue you dip, their laugh to raise.
Hunger without words, my feet drowned.
You strove in crowd; they left its frowned.
Consider me in bold revere.
Yet I have no gold heart severe.
For every jewel, you cover.
For beauty, I was not lover.
Copyright © Muhadzis Ghafur