#a-b-b-a

[pokemonpoemanon-blog]

There are three types of people: ones that can rhyme, ones that don't rhyme, and then the embodiment that flopple.

[surreptitiouslysatisfying]

The Once Kissed Box.

If ever you break this,

his clever veneer,

put him to tears,

have this done, at least.

Find a small decrepit box,

blow off its dust,

let off some musk,

a purpose will be served, at last.

Cut the hair he had loved so,

curled around his finger,

its scent soon to linger,

donned as black as his woe.

Finally, place in his shards.

On the lid, land a kiss,

the only lips he'll miss,

and curse inside that box.