“be my bride”,
he cried
but to no avail.
his request denied
with nowhere to hide
unable to debride
he traveled worldwide
his wounded pride
to salvage

he groaned he moaned
and agonized and why’d
in terms of emotion
he was oversupplied
his insides hog-tied
deep-fried
filleted and hung out to dry

anyway.
one day
during a longish car ride
he eyed the view
and thusly spied
a dewy cobweb
glimmering and wide
a tree bestride
broken.

he attempted to deride
but with a start, realized
hey
i lived
i loved
i tried
es tut mir nicht leid
(he’d had some free time
to study German)

at this point,
the writer rubbed his eyes,
sighed,
and went off to the loo
to commit well-deserved suicide.