I’d love a glass of Cabernet

Though it might later cause regret

Old memories of four-leaf clovers

Rescued for a bygone lover

I tell myself I’m very tough

But in the face of fear, I cough

Your temper puts me in a mood

I’d rather this not turn to blood

My bearing is a fragile rose

Heat rises, I will surely lose

Like wisdom sought from Socrates

I’ll leave this to the fickle Fates

So I’ll let you be alone

Until your bitter air is gone

And when your burning rage is over

Perhaps you’ll hear from your old lover

(Have fun reading this! 😈)