Mend a heart, nurture good names
While love age, let it not fade.
I know a man who never shivered
When he got red roses withered.
Heartlessness filled his wardrobes,
His eyes never shed teardrops
Drying water, he tore ridges
At every point he built bridges.
Many chics he racked with pains
Many slates he left thus stained,
Till two played the game of sole
True love, confused for wrong hole.
Beyond redemption he found
Himself hearing his own sound
While his soul, tasted his blood
Gushing like rain and its flood.