a study toward sonnet #718 by FisherKingKQJ
I cry those times with her that I lost hope,
Flagging lost on turning point of better,
And cutting losses, ushering in mope,
Disinformation squashed to the letter.
I sob the spells with her, I go-getter
Waving won on cusp of winding so wrong,
Puffing win as lapped again pace-setter,
Misinformation squished to the headlong.
She has destroyed my back in a dingdong,
The history being tightknit solid heal,
And thickened breaches twice as strong,
Which after waste away to true ideal.
My lovely, too, as my heart slow atones.
(Chorus)
bones
skeletal
vertebrae
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