(Editor’s Note: The author of this poem spent Valentine’s Day in hospital with doctors and nurses tending to his broken bones. Read on to find out why.)
My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife, marrying you screwed up my life.
I see your face when I am dreaming. That’s why I always wake up screaming.
Kind, intelligent, loving and hot; this describes everything you are not.
I thought that I could love no other – that is until I met your sister.
Roses are red, violets are blue; sugar is sweet, and so were you.
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl’s empty
and so is your head.
I want to feel your sweet embrace; but don’t take that paper bag off your face.
I love your smile, your face, and your eyes – Damn, I’m good at telling lies!
My love, you take my breath away; what have you stepped in to smell this way?
My feelings for you no words can tell; except for maybe “Go to hell.”
What inspired this amorous rhyme? Two parts tequila, one part lime.