“She was not quite what you would call refined. She was not quite what you would call unrefined. She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot.” – Mark Twain
She’s her own She-rlock,
assuming, presuming,
surmising, theorizing;
but her conclusions amiss,
like always,
no matter how much I remind her.
Doesn’t she know,
a man has but one heart,
which I gave her
long, long ago?
#Had-The-Morn-Cup-And-Typed-In-2-Minutes-Poetry
#FreeVerse-I-Like-It
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