Words, perhaps—emotions mirrored,
More than letters, they are—reminds the lover.
As the 5, 4, 3 takes over their vows,
Flaunting its beauty,
They embrace one another.
Beauty she is—perhaps a swan,
Gentle he is—perhaps the lake.
A perfect picture they draw together,
As they ring one another—at 5.
A duel now sparks with fury,
Hearts quickly turn to ashes.
None ready to accept their mistake,
“Sorry” hides behind their fate,
While the red thread turns vague.
"Nothing lasts forever," says the bard,
As Romeo and Juliet turn into tale.
The 5 and 4 meet their end—
A mere word, says the very same mate.
“Lover’s quarrel,” says the blonde.
“It’s the ring!” says the brunette.
“Did love ever win the race?”
Questions the bird,
As it fails to accept their fate.
Forgetful they are of their 5, 4, 3s,
The following numbers turning pale.
Now, tell your goodbyes to the poem.
'Cause you see, my love—
Love’s sour, sorry’s burnt, and bye’s bitter.
I shall go; now, you decide—
Whether you will say your 5, 4, 3s,
Or let the past collide.
Love, Sorry and Bye ..3 difficult words infact.
