Then time passes by, and in the complexity of life you lose touch with it. And you can't read your poem as often as you used to. Then suddenly you read it again and you just can't see anymore what about it made you love it so much. Because nothing about it touches your heart anymore. The words are still beautiful, you still see the cleverness with which the writer crafted the words to make them rhyme... But what about it really made your soul cry? You search the poem, and within yourself, but you don't find it.
And you read it again. And again. But you just don't get it anymore. You're just reading a really beautifully written poem but that's all. The magic is lost. Nothing triggers any special emotion in you.
Well I think being in love is just like that. It's just hopeless once the magic wears off. Sometimes you can't find the magic in the object of your adoration, and sometimes I guess the subject of your adoration can't find it in you. I don't really know. I'm not an expert. But I know falling in and out of love is just like poetry. It's really sad and beautiful. All at the same time.