Poem: Love passes w/o class

Love Passes w/o Class
a Three Syllable “Sonnet”
by Bastet

He left me
With two kids…
She, Russian
He, a jerk.

“She loves me!”
So he thought.
Green-card though
Was her goal.

Married her…
She left him,
High and dry
Went State’s-side.

Then says he:
“Come to me!
t’was all wrong
leaving you!”

I just said:
“Drop dead friend!”

My favorite human “sythesiser”, my neologism  for a master in brevity, Ye Olde Foole was trying his hand a writing a sonnet with lines of 3 syllables…I liked the idea so, I wrote the Three Syllable Sonnet! Click the link to see his fantastic Sonnet (in normal form, entitled Where the Desert Ends.)

in shadows light - walking under weeping pines - spring rain

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