Fallen words roll steadily of his tongue,
as he sings and swings upon the strings
of a love song that is about to be sung.
But before this song begins, let me remained you,
it is foiled by the sins of useless hearts,
breaking the strings of the violins
that once seemed so pure and clear.

When will you realise, that love like politics
is nothing but a front.
So forget the conspiracies, tear up the theories
of sonnets, both old and young,
and ones that are yet to be sung.

Because that smile, that you think emulates the sun
and creates emotions of fun, right from day one.

Is a nonentity.  

With a slightly snarled pursed lip
Pursuing sweet nothing, yet your heart stays eclipsed
and you lean in to kiss.

Then 10 months down the line, you here a chime
you open your eyes, she’s gone, you’re out of time,
and finally you realise,
Love is like politics, it’s nothing but a front.