I Wrote a poem, fair and true,
And meant to send it straight to you.
. . . . .
But, last night I crashed a party,
I left it there and now I'm sorry.
. . . . .
Now, you'll never get to hear it.
Its words can't frame your heart and spirit,
. . . . .
(Your soul a portal, mind a door hinge).
I even had a rhyme for "orange."
. . . . .
You can doubt me, I don't mind it.
I'll prove you wrong if / when I find it!
. . . . .