Lemons are life's little gifts
Sent, in hopes of making you uplift.

Have your credence in me,
When I say this--
They are better than cheap shop-thrifts!

Thought they were pretty anklets
Adorning my petite feet.
Egad!
Truth to be spoken,
I confess my plea--

They were shackles
Binding my feet

Her thoughts are cold and numb
Her lips have stopped to hum,
A little song of love and joy.
After her heart was casted away-
In the dark vortex, like a toy.

Silent paws tread cautiously
With a mischievous glint
And a Cheshire grin.
The cat tilts over everything,
With a satisfactory glee.

The fiendish feline knocks over things,
Very well aware of my annoyance.
She leaves no corner undamaged,
And no object unbroken in pieces.

Preaching her wonderful ideology,
Of giving me no sense of peace!

Orchids droop from my once-carnal veins,
Blanched of life and grief-stricken
Dull of bright vigour and zestful youth.

The Orchid's petals fall in a mundane feeling,
Of persistent abuse and hidden wounds.

Amidst the dwindling string of hope,
I strum the merry notes of heart
Sweet and pleasant, like a singing lark.
My lips weave an exquisite poem,
While enforcing ideas from the depth of my mind and soul.