If the title is leading you to think this is going to be a happy poem, i feel like i should inform you of something before hand. It’s not.
A cruel mockery of a lonely soul,
These things we call love songs.
For those with love, they’re warm and bright,
For those without, they grind in what we lack.
They’re a reminder that we’re alone,
Without a partner to share our life with.
These love songs that play in my head,
They serve only to drive in the pain.
They haunt me, they taunt me.
Reminding me of the thing I want,
Yet they provide no helping in its pursuit.
Those tormenting words that I want to get out,
To get them out of my head and never come back.
But without fail, those songs will play.
Reminding me of what I want each and every day.