Men who are ordinary ought to beware
Those extraordinary beauties with
Beguiling eyes and depths
They can never plumb, thinking
Thoughts that exclude all of yours,
And the little looks now and then,
Your sliver of chance, you would be wise
To look beyond, but we were fashioned
With our own eyes and seek such beauty
And wish to own it – a normal sort
Of thing if it is not
Too great, but if it is then
There will be rivals
Which she may enjoy
Unless she have a wearied will
And see you somewhat the same
The name might be in love,
I’ve inscribed it so and recall
Striving with her in dreams,
Sleeping now, tired from
Her latest medical procedure.
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