Oh, there once was a lady, and so I've been told,
Whose lover grew weary, whose lover grew cold.
“My child,” he remarked, “though our episode ends,
In the manner of men, I suggest we be friends.”
And the truest of friends ever after they were-
Oh, they lied in their teeth when they told me of her!
Fable
Dorothy Parker
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Poem topics: child, cold, lady, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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