Despised you are
Distressed i am
Lamented you are
Irked i am
I beseech you
The murderer of my virtue,
The slayer of my innocence,
The thief of my soul,
The robber of my vanity,
To let thee enjoy thy solace
As hurting my heart is never an art,
So
In all your silver dreams,
Your silken things,
In all your acts of fornication
I fare thee well my hurt,
As my bye starts with good,
Riddance is now the fortè.
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