Roses are red violets are blue,
my **** is massive let me *******?

My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

While like an early summer plum,
Puny, green, and ****,
Droops upon its wizened stem
My lean, unripened heart.

the smoke that drifts
from lips once kissed
spirals and twists
your eyes are missed
my heart, it lifts
til you dismissed
and caused these rifts
my love, away you ******
lover's hands turned to fists