Poor Paris

I first heard of Juliet and her Romeo From a Taylor Swift song

I was eight And from that day forward I was a cliché: beautiful Juliet

I read the actual play when I was Wide eyed and twelve And my naive, little heart broke

I dreamed for years Of my Romeo Waiting for my cliché I was beautiful Juliet

I am grown now And I don’t think I’m Juliet Thank God

I am Paris, poor Paris I love with an optimistic heart

And just as I reach out, fingers flailing For my cliché, my beautiful Juliet, Her Romeo, that sniveling, swooning idiot Stabs me through the heart

Literally.

And he takes away my cliché: My beautiful Juliet.