Love's A Conundrum
A trail of tears leads to a scary thought;
just follow its source, and you'll find my heart.
Love was the destroyer of Camelot;
for Guinevere tore Arthur's heart apart,
when she took Lancelot as her sweetheart.
Love's a conundrum, and often fickle:
ubiquitous, and yet, still elusive.
When a tear slowly becomes a tickle,
superficial feelings turn abusive:
and forced smiles are no longer conducive.
Wishes and hopes haven't got you to love me,
I see it in your eyes; let's not pretend.
And it breaks my heart, we're not meant to be,
but this shambles of an affair must end;
it's time to go back to being my friend.
I had hoped that my wishes would come true;
yet somehow, passion's flame failed to ignite.
And though I will never stop loving you;
Cupid's arrow was aborted mid-flight,
and, unexpectedly, fell far from sight.
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