you're romeo montague
with a pocket full of poison and
a pocket full of choice
and you chose to die for love? --
oh! how dire this all sounds.
we die in the end, so why not sacrifice
ourselves for someone else?
we are born selfish, dependent on our bearer
yet we age and still we are none the self-aware-er.
we all claim to be kind, and modest, and
then smile as praise is laid upon our backs!
(as if we knew naught all along
that saying we are not
we give us what we want)
oh how juliet wept upon discovering
just how deep her lover slept.
and the thought of a future alone--
(as if there was none other to remove the pain,
as if love was given and not made)
--drove her to take up her dagger
and pierce her chest!
so she bled upon her lover's breast;
dear Romeo, who was not apart from love
and died with a broken heart.
(what lesson does this all teach?
star-crossed lovers, indeed.
too greedy to see.
too "in love" to be.)