You were not my first love ,
But you are the one who hurt the most .
That was first degree ****** on my emotions, feelings and imaginations .

The Pencil that used to write you odes and amatory thoughts,
couldn’t believe the plot twist.
It cried the most , i had to tune it to political rhymes.

Just yesterday, it said , let’s write one last elegy for the dead love ,
Just one ballad of sorrow.