Love is not me
it is not you
but could it be
if in my shoe
you'd join me soon
to share my life
I'll share the spoon
with my new wife.

You must not fall
for etiquette,
for handsome, tall
and those who bet
on rags to riches
and rings of gold
then be in stitches
when they have sold
you down the river
or the creek
where for your liver
solace you seek.

No, love is just
a sad illusion
a handsome bust
and much confusion.
The pheromones
sent from the sky
you counting stones
the day you die.

A play to entertain the gods
it brings amusement from this earth.
Besides the flashy lightning rods
all they have left is death and birth.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gods-bored/