Ode to the Romantics

Falling in love was once easy and cheap,
But all you taught me was how to weep.
And now there's a price to pay,
And now there are words you must say.

Yet each to our true we sin,
Of empty hearts we carelessly win.
But your love is the dust of an old book,
And I a thief, who took to took.

If only you let meaning meet with reason,
Your smile could save this season.
But you sit in that room of despair,
With shawls of sadness that you choose to wear.

What glory is now to be craved,
And what misery is now to be saved?
In one moment you could so easily care,
And in another, you wouldn't dare.

You may have played with the moon,
And slept till every noon.
But one June, someday soon,
You will know what it's like to croon.

But I'm a poet, so I suffer,
But each thought of you makes it tougher.
And it isn't that you know no joy,
For you I'll still be a glass toy.