Lovesick.

Curtail your childish celebrations.
Subdue the singing parrots.
Put away your naughty toys
and consume those party carrots.
She is not coming home today
nor will she be tomorrow
for her heart is filled with ghastly gloom
and nasty-looking sorrow.
I tried to fill her eyes with smiles
but my efforts all were wasted.
There is no cure for sickly love
once the poison has been tasted

by Jack Lashbrook

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