Saturday, 18 October 2014

An adieu

There was once a young man 
Who accused me of being
A humongous pile of cheesy love songs
With hair like straw infused with
Apple juice from expired cartons

He went on to say that drunken mice
Would suffer indigestion from the cheese
And throw up all over my hair.
(Here I am not clear if mice throw up at all)

Now to him I say, Aye, If cheese must
Go, go it will. Though its delightful 
Tang and silken heaven will dearly 
Be missed, the 'L' word shall be uttered 
With utmost discretion, this I promise.

And here it is, an adieu, to all thick
Clumpy and sordid. I ought to close 
This now, bare are the words I type
(Irony is that you try to change 
for the one you love)

Also, note I may have exaggerated a little :)

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