There
once
.
w
a
s
.
a
time
.
i
n
.
the
days
.
o
f
.
youth,
–
–
when
.
m
y
.
pages
exploded
–
–
with
.
t
h
e
.
howling
tunes
.
o
f
.
wildly,
–
–
romantic
moons . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
There
once
.
w
a
s
.
a
time . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
b
u
t
–
–
–
now
.
t
h
e
.
days
.
a
r
e
.
not
.
a
s
.
new,
.
.
a
n
d
.
.
I
begin
.
t
o
.
serve
.
a
.
colder
brew . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ a
colder
brew
.
o
f
.
blue . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
a
colder
brew
.
o
f
.
“truth”
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
thought
someday
–
–
I
might
return
.
t
o
.
that
room,
–
–
where
.
t
h
e
.
howling
wild
–
–
might
–
–
bloom
anew . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
thought
someday
–
–
I
might
return
.
t
o
.
that
room . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
b
u
t
–
–
–
everyone
.
h
a
s
.
become
“too” . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
Too
nice
.
o
r
.
too
cruel . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ too
determined
.
t
o
.
win
.
o
r
.
lose . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
Too
many
issues
.
o
r
.
too
few . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ too
easy
.
o
r
.
too
difficult
.
t
o
.
choose . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
Too
much
.
o
r
.
too
little
.
t
o
.
prove . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ too
intent
.
o
n
.
using
.
o
r
.
being
used . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
Too
intense
.
o
r
.
too
loose . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ too
eager
.
t
o
.
make
.
i
t
.
happen
soon . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
If
you’re
going
.
t
o
.
race
around
madly
.
t
o
.
capture
romantic
moons,
–
–
you
better
.
d
o
.
it
soon,
–
–
while
.
t
h
e
.
days
–
–
remain
new . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ you
better
.
d
o
.
it
soon,
–
–
before
.
i
t
.
becomes
“too” . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
know
–
–
it’s
me . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ it
.
i
s
.
not
you . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
know
–
–
it’s
me . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ it
.
i
s
.
not
you . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
know
–
–
it’s
me . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ it
.
i
s
.
not
you . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
f
o
r
–
–
–
everyone
.
h
a
s
.
become
“too.”
Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in July of 2016 where the romancer begins to realize romances do not come as easy as they used to – our preferences, experiences, expectations, reservations, histories, judgements, and such tend to get in the way.