I wrote this poem, desolated under a tree
Remembering the incidents, he hath done with me
Make me sad and make me bully
Unhappy, dejected and unfree
Yet good god gave me his blessings and grace,
From a fitty to an optimistic face
It was my time to take the revenge,
And his juncture to confront the avenge.
Now I am here, with a quality image;
While he caught the inapt carriage
I gained success and had fun,
And he sorrows for what he has done.
It's too late for him to apologise,
Inside my heart, he is much criticised;
Ne'er to me, he could be a man of decency,
Here I rise to power and now ends his supremacy.
Hey the sole, I know you would understand
For you, this poem have I planned;
Through this may you realise your obligations
To believe and claim your do's and allegations.
Now he is the one on to be felt pity,
May someone provides him with gratuity;
Oh no, that can't be me;
To me, he is a rogue of utter incorrigibility.
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