So many secrets aren’t disclosed,
Important words aren’t uttered.
She hoards her tenderness for those,
Who're ready to be smothered
With thin gold threads of one frail heart,
Who're not so rude to stamp it,
Appreciate her pains so much,
Are grateful for her bounty.
She always needs a kindred soul -
The rest receive a dead answer.
She treats them only hot and cold
And feels them like a good dancer.