To the hopeless romantic,
I wish I could show you where the road will lead,
I wish,
That somehow I could ease the pain that sprinkles the steps you took to get here,
Each heart break more disappointing than the last,
Each betrayal tarnishing the sliver of hope that remained,
I feel the void in you,
Cautious emotion where love used to live,
Each perceived failure taking a bigger piece of you than the last,
Love is the most intricate form of self-destruction my dear,
And you are a pro,
You give until your hands bleed,
Covered in the end,
Dripping with what\'s left of you,
Crimson covered eyes,
Blind with passion,
Desperate to feel,
Yearning for reciprocation,
A tenth of what you put in,
And Boy you\'d have it made,
Like side by side rocking chairs till wood rots like dust in the wind,
The problem lies in the world my love,
Not you,
They don\'t make \'em like you anymore.
Butterflies and passion have been killed by greed and destruction,
A world built on the bones of loyalty and trust,
It\'s no place for dreams of a white picket fence,
And it seems there is no place for us...
-B-