sonnet I tend to think

I tend to think of them as flagrant fools
Machismo mode machines of toggle tweaks
You magnify and echo selfish streaks
And then you spin your own consensual rules
Yes tears Id sob could fill up swimming pools
I tap a track of time days drag wend weeks
Dry gears of guile grind grit on cracks and creaks
I swing a saboteurs too shiny tools
Fun facts I was much praised for brilliant brain
And native charm and cheer and lovely looks
They touched on tempting bosoms bends and nooks
I swore I wouldnt pinch in worldly vein
Feelings flare fun fellows flirts and fickle
Wrest with worry what a pretty pickle
Chorus fickle capricious volatile