Hal, Paul and Andre

30 12 2009

Changing chances for romances constantly constrain advances

In their predominant places, peering blankly through the faces

Of the cantankerous laughter that comes still and ever faster.

After all the subsidized betrothals have been loathed, despised

By churlish, obtuse renegades who never say what they’d have made

Of opportunity and chances, yet they importune your glances;

Never can the ill-advised beginnings of motives, disguised

with passion for the passion’s sake, ever hope to soothe or slake

The wounds brought on by coons high gone

Or forgettably true mistakes.



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