When friends are unaware of the wound in the heart, they have no concern or care for my tears of blood.

This couplet captures the quiet ache of loneliness that hurts most when it comes from those closest to us. The poet speaks of an inner agony so profound that it weeps tears of blood, yet realizes with a sigh that even dear friends remain oblivious to the wound. It reflects a tender, melancholic truth: our deepest sorrows are often borne in complete solitude, untouched by the sympathy we long for.