I know it won\'t be published,
this sheet of scribbled stress.
As soon as I\'ve done bleeding,
I’ll mash this mangled mess.
But just for one mad moment
a copy I\'ll put by.
To one I\'ll dedicate it:
Lorraine, my sugar pie.
You see, she was my true love,
my tender teenage dream,
who shone like Aphrodite,
with golden glow and gleam...
till loved ones she had trusted,
her wings they cruelly clipped,
and love they tore to pieces,
like letters they had ripped.
And through life’s jaded journey,
when we were far apart,
I ached to simply hold her,
that piece of my poor heart.
So, for her sake I\'ll save it:
this missive made of tears:
a testament and tribute
to tragic teenage years.