Of lovers in love (not)

I'm alone and in a rut

need to think of something but

there's a feeling in my gut

I won't make sense

to naught anyone but me

and that's the way that it will be

because I cannot really see

past this pretence.

We can tug and we can try

strain our hearts and even cry

but this life will just go by

without a chance

at a state of real connection,

for the trappings of affection

are merely imperfection,

best viewed askance.

Life has things of more import,

my dear friend, I do exhort

you to speedily abort

this futile plan

lest the feeling should take hold

and then get so very bold

and then completely enfold

as well it can.

And so I must tell you this,

before you fall in the abyss

of this temporary bliss,

so listen well.

Resist! Though you be drawn,

for the shine will soon be gone

and the cold hard light of dawn

all dreams dispel.

You may well ask me why

despite all this we still defy

all good sense and yet retry

to love invoke.

Upon most grave reflection

of this fateful predilection,

I must say natural selection

played a joke.