Does shallow rhyme amuse you so,
That you decline to let me go?
Rhymes about a hundred roses,
Rhymes about how cute your nose is.
Can you not notice my disguise,
That I fashion from these lies?
That have no substance and no meaning,
But which you seem to find appealing.
I'll tell you now, I think that you,
Deserve far better than a few,
Love poems written by a man,
Who hides behind a crafty pen.
Please do not take this the wrong way,
And think that what I'm trying to say,
Is that there is a man of worth,
Who hides behind this awkward verse.
Because there is no such man here,
No wise man, oracle, or seer.
A poet made of flesh and blood,
Is all that's under this facade.
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