A man decided to love But without enough shove. To his dismay Whirlwind swept away In disrepute his dream without a gleam. That good villainous morning, He awoke, greeted by mourning. Blurred became his vision, Vanity became his mission. Saddened, he griefed Though his acridity briefed. His belief in true love flurred As smoke swallowed into thin air. His heart hardened as a rock, The thought of true love makes him yock.