Dear Diane, (caudate sonnet)
What's up at work? Still at loggerheads?
and how's that girl you said would never last,
whose crying sounds like wet thumb rubbed on glass?
You tried to help; GET OVER IT, you said.
Just because Pusscat shat in his flowerbed
and Bonaparte is gay and likes to bark,
that's no cause for the man next door to carp.
LIVE and let LIVE, you said (he's so ill-bred) .
Verity thinks you're self-absorbed? Not true!
You're well-informed with views, like PEACE (for it)
WAR (against) and POLITICS ( ) . Fiery
blue, no-one's more profoundly viewed
than you: the sugar-hearted star I orbit.
Always here whenever you require me,
Yours 4eva, Diary xx
P.S. Have you seen the Doctor yet
about that ‘uh-oh' matter? Don't forget.
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