Misunderstanding

You never read my poems...

I told you about them, that's not the problem.
Or maybe it is...
Because when I told you I write, I didn't tell you that I was writing
For you
And that I hoped, one day, that you'd read what I'd written
And see inside me
And be proud of what you saw

So I guess it isn't fair of me to say that you never took the time
To do something that I didn't clearly tell you
Was of monumental importance to me

How could you have known?