If I ever wrote romantic poetry, it would go something like this,

He told me he loved me,
That he saw stars in my eyes,
He told me that green was his favourite colour,
Until his eyes met mine.
He told me he’d never seen a smile
Quite as beautiful as mine;
That just looking at me could stop time.
He said that he loves me,
Loves me more and more everyday,
Tells me that I absolutely take his breath away.
he said he'd never believed in love till he laid his eyes on me,
Never thought his heart could skip a million beats.

The thing with romantic poetry is,
That none of this,
Not even he
Is real.