I'm sorry, you believe you're so young and naive
With a fleeting aroma of bittersweet
Like the last drops at the punt of a bottle.
But please, don't shy from being described as the prickling of rain
So Subtle, yet tantalizing for an empty vase
Giving just enough without any sour refrain.
And those choice few, who choose to lie with you
Might get candy coated and erode from the inside out—
Still, the sickly sweetness of your demeanor is nothing to complain about.
Realize the idea of you is not just a fragrant thought
You can't blame yourself for having latent thorns with rot
And don't stay with those who say they merely just forgot
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