I was angry
I never thought I'd write books
Before the phone call had come
That said his pellucid charm had gone
And her wishes had died within the heart of literature
I struggle with licensing
My editions need justice
Many a servant served tea
Livid, yes
Genial, no
I kept figuring out the antonyms
Until I realized I wrote a paradoxical ending
At least I got the name right
They told me my fair coy lady
Was Scarlet and her neverending gossip
Was famously spread in columns
Iconic poses and all, laid like the skirts
Genteel among the polo shirts
She was a beauty
I tell ya'
She was star-studded
She was stellar
She is everything that looks good in blue and green
Shells on the sea shoreline
Fail in her compare
I couldn't write the book
Because she was one I was chasing after
Not so sure it was literature
My first love, which kept me shy