If I make both outcomes,
Either of which are inevitable
Make both a win-win situation
Then I nullify any heartbreak.
But what is more depressing
Than love with neither hope
Nor confidence that the fire
With its fragile ego unguarded
Could ever hope to make jealous
The passion that once bubbled within?
Effervescent infatuated bumblings
That boiled over in froths and spills
That overcame wills and various chills
And I on the receiving end thought
For once I wasn’t foolish enough to think
I would ever make it this far to finding
Myself with another soul in this world.