Revised sonnet #327
He served to me a chilly polar stare
I poked out my tongue through two painted lips
He was a narcissist too self aware
The kind of rascal nature oddly well equips
I felt at fault abused I gave him yips
I was a weirdo wrong in what Id do
I was a rat off previous sinking ships
I dealt him mercy sex since lofty poo
Unstable pretty boys are nothing new
The bomb of love Id suffered was a sign
Of blatant phoniness a major clue
He singled me out special clinging vine
I didnt say adieu the way its sold
A final face to face I went just cold
Chorus sold hawked peddled
