William Shakespeare
Why a guy is interested today in me and not tomorrow
Why doth the heart of man change its course, As the tides that ebb and flow in endless force? A reflection upon the temperament of his desire, Where he gazeth upon yon fair face with eyes afire, For in the realm of fickle love doth he tread, With wavering steps and thoughts better left unsaid. Yea, why is it that today he findeth in me delight, Whilst within his heart doth no flame take flight, Whence he basks in the warmth of my humble presence, But on the morrow, steps back without recompense? Forsooth, the answer lies not in mine own worth, But rather in the nature of love upon this earth. Love, dear friends, is but a fleeting breath, That dances upon the lips, betwixt life and death, And as swiftly as it arriveth, so too may it fade, Like a flame snuffed out, a serenade unplayed. A man's interest, my good fellows, is a volatile thing, That knows no loyalty, no bond, nor golden ring. In the ebbing light of love's elusive reign, Men wander lost, their hearts tossed by disdain, For what captivates them today may cease to inspire, As they seek the next fleeting flame of desire. Such is the nature of this perplexing quest, That leaves the lovers bewildered, and oft distressed. Do not fault the gentleman whose passion doth change, For he is but a reflection of loves's fluid range, And rather, consider the beauty within this strife, That love's essence can be elusive, yet full of life. For though one's gaze may shift, attentions veer, Love's carousel turns on, forever austere. So let us not lament the fickleness of affection, But instead embrace love's mercurial complexion, For in its ever-changing realm, we find our own, And learn that love's mystery is not to be disowned. One day in the light of love's fleeting flame, May we too find solace, and in that, lay no blame.
