A Painful Love

This is sort of a sad poem I think, but it is more about the meaning. I feel like this a lot. The poem itself is rather bad, but the situation is so true for most people.

A Painful Love
Why is it, that what I love,
makes me cry.
Not tears of joy,
but pain, sorrow, and woe.
My passion, my love,
will never give me what I want.
Not even joy,
not even contentment.
With love, it means that much more,
and the pain is that much worse.
I could never give up my love,
but the pain will kill me.
Why does everyone expect so much?