Revised sonnet #1520
The whispers loud yet low a passing phase
Its just infatuation insidious stuff
Theyll break off holding hands ignored enough
Theyll fold default to segregated ways
The regimental uniforms erase
Our personalities thwart off the cuff
I wonder whether borstal halls are buff
The waiting round affords the deadliest daze
I could impress her using magic powers
And save her from a fractious feeling state
The pocket money purchase wrap of flowers
A ritual ruse it mightnt antiquate
Its nice to know the whispers made of mirth
Arent jealous underline her worldly worth
Chorus mirth glee levity