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Regrettably Real
I saw him,
Arrayed up in a shimmering green tuxedo,
His smile, devilishly sinister.
His eyes were cold, in contrast,
And he listened,
Attentively.
He spoke jargon,
Or could I not catch his half broken verses?
Whatever way it was,
He was a hopeless poet.
His hair shone bright,
His smirk, never dematerialized.
But behind his suaveness, all his cloying
Temperament,
There lay a streak,
Of genuineness
That did not failed to render me
Awestruck.
He was,
Frighteningly Beautiful.
Indisputably Distinguished.
Regrettably, Real.

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Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall keep on saying good night till it be morrow.