Lovely Cliche ((glass hearts of another day))

Darling, I hate to be predictable,
but I must now be terribley cliche,
love is such a red balloon,
watch it float away

Red for bleeding passion,
tired symbolism learned class,
yes, just another poem,
about a heart made of stained glass

Do you call me just to kill me?
I wonder if you see it on my face,
yes, dearest, just another love poem,
about another angel fallen far from grace

Some people are always aiming,
desperate to be good enough for a while
but i wish you would someday see this poem,
how i wish you loved my smile

So please answer one more question,
in this world of poetry where i can be too true
do you do it just to see me flinch?
does it hurt that i care about you?