Pearl, on prom night, promptly proposed.
so, I suggested we split and simply supposed
that Pearl became bitter briefly, because
she rightfully, readily expected a rose.
I swayed off the subject, suggesting a swing.
did dancing do me much of any damn thing?
no, not for this Knight she had made King!
raging and ranting, I ran from the ring.
at home and in hiding, I hid from her hate.
lonely and lusting, she lurked by the gate.
creeping and crawling, she came by at eight.
with weapons of love, she whacked with her weight.
the funeral on Friday and I, finally free,
she sobbed and sighed in melancholy.
better to be blessed and buried lonely
than be placed with Pearl perpetually.