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Bruce, Caroline

The Traitor

Who's the girl who drank Mountain Dew,
My traitor, so divine,
She's from Milwaukee, I'm telling you,
and she's my Caroline.

She liked the stuff, felt no remorse,
My heart feels so confined,
But I love her, though times now are rough,
Yes she's my Caroline.

What punishment befits this traitor,
Who's so out-of-line?
Guess I'll come up with one later,
For my Caroline.

A Pepsi product! Oh, how could she,
For justice now I whine,
It's sad, so very sad indeed,
but she's still my Caroline.

What better test of my true love
could fate possibly design?
But at least you know I'm thinking of
My fair maiden, Caroline.

How many words can I concoct
With her name for to rhyme?
My synapses will soon be blocked,
Please help me, Caroline!

All negativity expressed in the above poem is purely the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual negativity is entirely coincidental, for no such negativity exists.
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Comments

Dang! That was a rockin' poem! Lucky, lucky Caroline! You know, if she continues to be a traitor, she might get more lovely poems like this. *evil grin*