Death of a Romantic

You don’t know any better when you’re first married at three in a plastic princess dress beneath an old oak tree but then fifteen years later it all comes crashing down your mother asks what’s happened you reply with nothing but a frown what else is there to say? a hundredth of your life swiftly thrown away on a boy with less love in his heart than he has hours on GTA? and every time we’d be alone my eyes would water and I’d turn to stone? I used to think hell would freeze over before I’d lose my heart but in this race of misery I seem to have a head start but then You come along with a soul golden and untouched and I don’t think I’m lying when I say I like you very much but how long will it be before you, too, grow cold? I could wait forever but forever just gets old.