Purple Bees Spurn Pleas

No chances to rue if wisdom prevailed When bad blood to your head went Alongside public approbation that hailed The demise of goodwill lent and meant. No early exit six feet under Had horse sense hovered Nearby to ensure blunders didn’t plunder Golden opportunities that had your best bet covered. No tears to shed, no fears spread When at the right time wrong button you pressed To play to the gallery as you sprayed rays of expiration on your bed In a mood that left both of us depressed, oppressed and suppressed. No rewarding return to learn, no honour to earn Amid somber sorrow sown and grown in a row Elongated and extended within an oblong urn Cos two tendrils turned down a chance to grow.