Portcullis

You were a stranger the minute you said, “listen…”

The portcullis of my forte was drawn up

Guards placed on each tower; armed, alert—

                                    Your farewell speech fell on deaf bricks

                                    (Proclamation: Endearments from today will be

                                    Considered weapons; tears shall be fair game)

My darling, my has-been, your talents include

Turning wax into metal; and me? Heh, I’m gifted

To convert, from a bug, into a beast (in a sigh)

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