Love Story Satire

Love Story, Satire
I had to come first,
Like a roadhog, at the burgeoning,
I had to put myself at first meeting,
My conceit puffed, huffed for thirst,
Tis my airs that grows like cyst,
Her dreams lessen to mine,
My wants bulk large, sublime,
Her life bypassed and she, ostracized,
For my wants crow, bridle, aggrandized,
While hers lies low ebb tide,
I had to come first,
Her coming sketch of tomorrow slit,
Her map sliced to pieces and I do the cutting,
My first move, to cut the edges, expunging,
Because only I can mount and lift,
Simulacrum of a soaring egotist,
I had to come first,
But as I lie in her final throes of life,
As I rue over with woe and sigh,
The end sprung from the cut and thrust so I derived,
All because of the game that I had won, while hers
collapsed,
Above all, exalted, I welcomed, dressed to the nines,
I had to come first.
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