I will call it a sweet fallacy
And laugh at it's cute fantasy

I will play along and say I love you too
Pick the petals one by one until it's true

We will wax poetically and count the stars
Create an oasis, and call it ours.

But the moon will set, and the sun will rise
And like all good things, there is a cruel demise.

A dear Poincare Conjecture of the heart
It was true love from the very start.