Romance?

Smoke filled lungs and starless skies,
Hopeless romantics from the ashes arise.
Desperately seeking what they are missing,
They sit there constantly reminiscing.
A note they've read till it's worn,
The words are blurry and the edges torn.
A lesson in romantics if you will
- you never forget how you feel!
And here they are, the romantic
More like out of love and frantic.
They take another puff and sigh,
And look to couples with wry.
Nothing remains the same,
But still the romantics mutter the name.
Love. Posh what is this?
Does such a thing exist?
For surly it must, they sit there in pain.
But no one can fully explain.
Love-kisses, soft touches and warm feelings.
The whole thing has my mind reeling.
But still they cry, those die hard fools,
Letting this emotion use them like tools.
They say that love will grow,
That in time it will show.
But once its gone you will know,
Then you'll be a romantic in woe