A poem about ACCEPTANCE (for those who got it wrong)

Those lips that loves own handed make,
Breath forth the sound that said I hate.
To me that languished for her sake,
But when she saw my woeful state.
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet was used in giving gentle doom.
And taught thus a new greet,
I hate she altered with an end that followed it as gentle day doth follow night.
Who like a fiend from heaven to hell is flown away.
I hate from hate away she threw,
And saved my life saying...
Not you.


(Four vodkas with a twist of citrus...according to the label).