'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!