Roses are red, my heart ache's true,
The violet's cause me to feel more blue.
Like the poetry that I write,
My one true love shows me the light.
'Tis cruel, 'tis cruel,
But I know the rules.
Whining gets you nothing,
I'm using the wrong tools.
But, if I am to ever make my love apparent,
I need to be, nevertheless, be more adherent.
It's true love can't be played by book.
But, I shall write my own novel, and my world shall no longer be shook....
*Phew*

