Though she now gives me kisses, and I enjoy their heat,
her lips aren't soft like yours, nor nearly quite so sweet.
Though she makes me smile, with every "I love you"
I can't forget that moment, when you once said those words too.
Though she's the one who has me now, and does the things you'd do
it'll never be, just quite the same, she simply isn't you.

Of what do poets write, when their muse has finally gone?
When they lose the girl they love, and are expected to move on?
Of what will my heart sing, when I can't sleep at night?
Now she's left me in the cold, and nothing feels alright.

I don't believe in fate nor in any kind of grand design,
Because if we got what we deserved then theres no way that you'd be mine.
So I won't call you a godsend nor compare you to an angel,
And though your absence burns I won't say that I'm in hell.

But when I close my eyes I see your face
and girl now my heart it starts to race
at rather an impressive pace
as I think of you in all your grace
I think this is another a case
where my heart is ever giving chase
as it beats out with infinite bass
at the thought of you all clad in lace.

But I'll admit that in your dress,
You display infinite finesse

When I say she's my rock, to the people I meet
For some reason they all, seem to think that that's sweet.
But no she is not, my foundation of stone,
Who supports and holds me, when I feel alone.
She isn't the constant, that keeps me sane
Because it's been a long time, and that girl she did change.

No for I am Sisyphus, and this much is true,
I'll never make things work with you.
But I am Sisyphus, it's what I do,
And I'm in love, with trying to

You said you loved me, but where's that now?
You just up and left without a tear,
Expecting me to be alright somehow,
Without the future we had drawning near
But fine then, goodbye, I'll be fine,
I just thought you meant it, when you said you were mine.

And so she leaves, what we were behind
And somehow expects me not to mind.
We weren't together but I'm still not fine
In this world, where she's not mine.
From all our plans, she walked away,
And now I'm alone, on this bleakest day.

What the point in poetry?
It doesn't change a thing.
It doesn't make a difference,
so why let my heart sing?

Whatever I say, you still won't care.
Why do I even try?
I'm in love but what's it worth?
I'd rather I just die.