Hollywood and Harlequin

This poem is from an old poetry book I had at the beginning of high school. It shows a very different style than what I write in now, which I find very interesting! Let me know what you think of the 14/15 year old Lena's poetry! 


Hopeless romantic idiocies rage and release,
And automatic responses seem so complex,
and when the things you love slip away,
what does love become?
Harlequin fiction tied with a bow?
Desire and circumstance, bundled? --I'll pass.
Love conquers all?
Then why does it fail more times than not?
When Cinderella thinks she can have her prince,
Failure is inevitable, but no one sees.
When greed pushes away all good intent,
who is there to forgive and forget?
When did love become plastic? drastic? fantastic?
What ever happened to truth?
When you can love someone through obligation,
what becomes of your definition of love?
When love is supposed to be unconditional,
what happens when it's unrequited instead?
How much am I paying for this so-called luxury?
When the price of real love became to high,
we decided to stop paying.
Lust and emptiness walk hand in hand,
down death row they lead.
In this world of one-night-stands,
hooking up, rather than commitment,
and obligated love that is supposed to complete,
what can I trust?

It's the question of the century.