I didn't get lost in your eyes
I didn't like the way you dressed
The conversation was forced
And, well
Perhaps that's for the best.

I didn't fall in love with you
I didn't embrace your fashion
I didn't like the colour you used
But then
From diversity comes passion.

I saw us having arguments
Your philosophy was weak
You hadn't heard of Thales
Although
I was impressed with your technique.

I couldn't imagine you in church
We wouldn't share a row of pews
And yet I think it's accurate
To say
I think an awful lot of you.

There must be a way out getting out
Of this, our delicious cataclasm
Before sex gets in the way or
Perhaps
You fake another orgasm.

You don't give me a lot of credit
I know more than you think I do
And I'm terrified to think
My friend
That the same is true of you!

So let's end this farce, be on our way
Before things get too steamy
Though I must confess that in that dress
Darling
You do look rather dreamy!

Ahem! No more! That's all she wrote
This poem has gone on too long.
It's not hard for you to tell
I'm sure
It has no sense of right or wrong.

And so to wrap it up painfully:
We're back where we first started.
I've always thought neither poetry
Nor love
Were roads for the fainthearted.

I didn't get lost in your eyes
I didn't like the way you dressed
The conversation was forced
And, well
Perhaps that's for the best.