Good old Shakey.
Shall I compare thee to a dull cliché?
Or sculpt a simile from lumpy clay?
I'll fish some A4 from the paper tray
and stencil love hearts with mouldy paint spray.
Sometimes too hot, romances kiln, will crack
my artful lyrics, however you who
know me best know how I despise gimmicks.
It's hard to tell through muddied eyes if we
were ever sound, but I suspect in years
to come true joy will come around.
Until then, my sweet Cherry tree, we shall
just have to wait, and see.