Shall I compare thee...

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.





The End

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