No.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCLI)
Lo, having said (within my heart, t'avail)
I would not write of "him," twas in defense
Accomplished, 'spite ole Humpday's waltzing sense
"He" gave me just cause to ink lines; in frail
Excuse I altered that, in sheer betrayl
To find: that I could not. What is it hence?
Twas all a dream. Vain hopes were not pretense
But lo, an outright lie methinks, sans bail.
If I was sick of dreams, or thought to stir
Me with far better than the twinkling crew
Of fantasies, alas, I'm prey as twere
On evry side, whilst all goes on anew
Without a backward glance. Tis oh, sae poor
Is't? to be just myself, and that I...rue?
04Apr19d
[Apparently the break I took to scribble this, he spent smoking outside.]