Anne

Bide my time

Take it slow

The summertime

Comes before long

I met a girl

Her name, it brought

The least pleasure

Anhedonia

She rolls off the tongue

With a little exertion

Shifty, pulls an end run around your lethargic efforts to buck her

Bide my time

This gray will end, it will

But not before

She's had her fill

The mirror stage

Comes with its costs

But upon reflection this old bird

Has greater claws

She rolls off the tongue

With a little exertion

Shifty, pulls an end run around your lethargic efforts to buck her