Sonnettics

I guess she didn’t know she broke my heart
I wonder if she thinks I broke hers too
Both time and space had pulled us far apart
The way that time and space are bound to do
I guess her love was just a metaphor
I wonder if our poetry was wrong
The verses we composed became a chore
And we could not complete our little song
We turn to face reality and find
Our love, our hearts, our song could never last
We turn to words to which we are resigned
Our love is words that linger in the past
The hearts we broke eventually will fade
To times we shun and spaces we have made.

We tend to long for time that's disappeared 
Although we know we'll never get it back
It's gone. It's gone, exactly as we feared
A train that travels down a rusty track
The rusty track of time is still traversed
By everyone, regardless of their age
A play of destination, unrehearsed
Performed upon a creaky wooden stage
If time was just a sonnet, who would write 
The little song that everyone must sing
But, out of tune or even out of sight
We know the final couplet time will bring
From time to time the similes get old
Like grapes that turn to wine or bread to mold.