I fell in love
like they showed me
on movies and TV,
in fairy tales
and fan magazines,
far too often to count.
Such wonderful times
those were,
living inside a dream
that even the equivalent number
of heartaches
couldn’t spoil.

I believed in people
like I was taught,
presidents and priests
professors and councilmen
friends and neighbors.
Such promising times
those were,
believing in a utopia
that existed
only in books and fantasy.

I still fall in love
less often, for sure,
and I still believe in people
just a little less blindly.
These are melancholy times
as these traits that sustain me
with meaning and zeal
fade ever so slowly
their mark on my soul
now sweeter than wine.