I tire of all the quips and quand'ries
related to, the deep dark quarries
In the mines of ignorance
The pit I speak of is romance
And I glory at the chance
to finally bid it sweet adieu
"But it's worth it" People stew
And maybe you, the reader too
But I for one, don't follow
"In the somehow I'll face tomorrow"
even though I, so full of sorrow
even now can't feel to hope
About the love that's often wrote
In written words, or music's note
Fairy tales and bedtime stories
With all the pomp, in all the glory
Which by me, I admit feel sorely
for the fantasy,lived by most
I believe in happy endings
but I've never had beginnings
I can't speak from experience
So everything, from now, hence
the ending of my eloquence
I only speak of what I know
I believe those ends for some
of who I sadly am not one
And feel it all to often
Love's labors won, the poet's say
But what, I ask's the price?
Of all the work and sadness' pay
Was it for something nice?
Did you find the lucky number
The one who's meant for you
who you dream about in slumber
and feels the same way too?
Then indeed you are the victor
but what about the rest
is there some way the Others
Can pass fate's evil test
I don't feel love is worth it
not the least in my case
I have felt and lost it
More times than I can say
