Oh, I could easily get over you,
I think, if I but ever wanted to.
This differs from, though I would not take bets,
Those addicted to drugs and cigarettes.
But why would I force myself to forsake
Love, when it will be slayne, as if with a stake.
Alack, Time is the great vanquisher. Friends
Oft’ arise matured to find friendship ends
With silent separation and moving
Of houses or desires. It’s behooving
To enjoy Love’s passing transience,
Though this is not realized by the less dense.
My, I’m fond of how your eyes bug with style,
But I’m more addicted to your rare smile.