they'll write sonnets to your spirit
and pen stanzas to your smile
but that won't mean they love you
though they'll teach you how to waltz.
there'll be sweet names that they'll call you
and the loving looks they give you
and the songs they'll gladly sing you
and make you think there is a hope.
and when your heart is trampled later,
and your folly is apparent
you will rue the day and weep it,
and you'll wish for stronger walls.
you will sit down to blank pages
and drink comfort in green tea leaves
trying to recount all your mistakes
and they'll call you more the fool.
though they played you and they led you
and they used you and abused you
they'll betray you and forget you
and they'll name you more the fool.
but you will later on have choices
to go further and give voices
to the sins they sinned against you
and the way they made you care.
but for now you are forgotten
you may sit and count your losses
try regaining your old cautions
you are sadly, more the fool.