a study toward sonnet #913 by FisherKingKQJ
When I die, mourn for me one week one day,
Show you're clever and never wiley;
And spare yourself the libelous hearsay,
That barebones black dresses suit you styley.
We've regarded one another highly,
Debated at length who would conk out first;
As you are younger, I would say wryly,
As widowhood with loneliness sounds cursed.
Grave dug, or crematorium flame burst,
I've stirred up purgatory, figured hell
As non existent, limbo dark at worst,
Wherein bad luck, imperfect knowledge quell.
Your organ donor list for illness braced,
And I want for nought but your lips to taste.
(Chorus)
o $10,000,000 braced
o $10,000,000 prepared
o $10,000,000 readied
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]
SPADES DIAMONDS CLUBS HEARTS