Farewell Kevin After John Dryden Farewell, Ungrateful Traitor Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Farewell Kevin After John Dryden Farewell, Ungrateful Traitor



Downgrade A.P. proposes
accentuates tears, fears,
dumb downgrade fate opposes
engenders change of gears,
bright trophies once adorning
night, morning, witness mourning,
departure tells no dawning
when Judgment Day appears.

Quid context links chromatic?
Quid backgrounds custom made?
See standard typeface static
subvert subscriptions paid.
Will Kev pull up his sockses,
unlock hermetic boxes
all hobbitses swear 'pox is! '
fonts uniformly grayed.

Too simple to deceive us
attempting to explain
'as buttered bread' to grieve us
with beta bug profane.
When facebook fan replaces
true poet, he who chases
gilt ads finds guilt displaces
most browned off readers sane.

Deceptions past prepare us
for pain, departure plain.
Though some say: “Should you leave us,
has journey proved in vain? ”
Before you have denied it
say 'mind finds bliss beside it! '
Block beta, none who tried it
shall find joy where all gain.

Some passion have pretended
as game aimed to obtain
advert alm, charm soon ended,
snake, charmer, all disdain.
Past tears have taken measure
of losing precious treasure,
but parting seems slight pleasure
when sharing hopes again.

These verses are extended
past Dryden's stanzas three,
till beta is amended
scribe stands by penning spree.
Search engine seems disaster,
slave shackled turns verse master,
dreams fading even faster
than light speed memory.

Farewell misunderstandings,
Farewell, past perjury!
Let not unhappy landings
void voyage verity.
The pleasure of possessing
surpasses all expressing
though bitter-sweet its blessing
once seemed, heave-ho heart’s pain!

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Farewell, ungrateful traitor!
Farewell, my perjured swain!
Let never injured creature
Believe a man again
The pleasure of possessing
Surpasses all expressing
But 'tis too short a blessing,
And Love too long a pain.

It's easy to deceive us,
In pity of your pain,
But when we love you leave us,
To rail at you in vain.
Before we have descried it
There is no bliss beside it
But she that once has tried it
Will never love again.

The passion you pretended,
Was only to obtain;
But when the charm is ended,
The charmer you disdain.
Your love by ours we measure
Till we have lost our treasure,
But dying is a pleasure
When living is a pain.
John Henry Dryden
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