flibbertigibbet sir, wherefore wilt thee t'rture me so
with thy silv'r-plat'd tongue
and eyes madeth out of m'rning dew and stars
i misprise thee so, to greeteth me with the shining array of thy teeth
to taunt me so with thy promising voice
and misconstru'd sparketh of fusty mem'ries
oh how i wisheth i hadst nev'r me thee
to f'rget thee wouldst beest such a gift
to f'rget the feelings and loveth thee has't given me
and f'rsaken me f'rev'r m're
YOU ARE READING
𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌
Poetrystatic stat·ic ˈstat-ik. adjective characterized by a lack of movement or change trigger warning: read at your own risk! | just an unnecessarily long collection of me trying to get over my feelings
