ode (or a dirge) to my lover

Don’t fall in love with me therein lies strife
just tarry awhile for some merriment
to take the edge off a creeping midlife
that seeks to undo without sentiment.
Were I to lose my heart o’er you don’t fret
I’ll never ask for yours at any rate
My fickle part will love and then beget
a bark to lie low in ‘til storms abate.

You’ve worked so hard to prove dependable
to the precious few who remain trusting.
Don’t give it all up for a fantasy
you know has not reliability
But stay on course remain unwavering
Your reward is in their love eternal.

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