\'Pon gleaning lasses,
and sir really not alright
not \"FAKE\" lads
grievousness doth bite
Love\'s Labour\'s
(Romeo and Juliet)
Lost sequel - colyte
(an emetic) more
bare hubble despite
abdominal cramps
(post colonoscopy),
where this poetic soul admits,
the latter doth not
hole hearted lee excite
yet, countless plaintive verses fight
ting despair espied
by unsuspecting readers
(such as yours truly),
no shining knight
ruminating squelched, spurned, light
ning and/or soiled
paramours hurtful might -
bitter byte size pill
deters peaceful night
methinks tortures teariness plight
unstoppably, vicariously,
and wickedly quite
this veritable stranger experiences
lamentation toward each right
or left word thinking
youthful earthlinked, sad sight
fractured gnarled hotmail in tight
fitting pants, and/or
ill humored gal uptight
an afflicted aching,
thus this paean I write
availing thyself
for those who cry
(game lee), and perhaps
feel like they wanna die
unsure how to help
fracturing soul I espy
unable to heal,
but on a whim
this idea didst fly
unsure yar bitta
bing banged psyche
ja wanna entrust this guy
kindle ling emotional pain hi
underwent during mine
almost three scores years my
body sashayed round
the sun well nigh,
now within avast
delicate web I ply
tender tinder tumblr
full spilling sadness sigh
lent lee self cannibalizing
vulnerability, yet try
in vane unable to heal
airing youtube whatsapp
without me asking why
only this papa of two
near grown daughters
intervention likened
to race against time, -
viz being potential
dead serious life saver,
this yang doth not not lie!