Love Is a Cruel Mistress

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I know this is probably in the wrong section of the poetry area, but here it goes-

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* :thud:




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I'm not so sure about this. I was hoping for a funny poem but that's just cause of a friend I have. There should be no apostrophe on the violets.



It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn't feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.
— Neil Armstrong