Cupid
Bows and arrows shoot with precise aim,
Causing love to sprout,
And make unwary people sick and lame,
While the cupid flutters about.
He flies with golden wings,
And strum his little harp,
Cupids are quite innocent things,
Until they strike your heart.
Soaring feelings, oh my, it’s bliss!
To love and to smile,
To hug and to kiss!
To bad it will all wear off in a while.
Bows and arrows shoot with precise aim,
Causing love to sprout,
And making unwary people sick and lame,
While the cupid flutters about.
Wearing a tunic, or just plain nude,
They soar over your head and fire,
Some may consider it rude,
But others don’t care, as their feelings rise higher.
Petty crushes and sickly disgust,
Are immediately reversed to,
Adoration and hearts filled to bust,
And bouquets of red roses and violets of blue.
Bows and arrows shoot with precise aim,
Causing love to sprout,
And making unwary people sick and lame,
While the cupid flutters about.
One unfortunate, black-haired student,
Was seen by a cupid,
And before he knew it,
He had been sang a song that sounded quite stupid:
“His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair as dark as a blackboard.
I wish he was mine, he’s really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.”
AN: Happie Valentine's Day, everybody! *throws rose petals into the air* I'm sorry if this is a bit late, but it was rejected before. Love you all! Peace on earth! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!