Violet Grape Purple Envelope
Plump and odd if it be round, for it being not its true girth,
albeit a perturbed belly is lacking as a mind revels in mirth,
as distant time and nigh rebels cause to fester pang worth.
For time begs the favor of that quill’s revival to regale its destiny,
as written walls forbearing thoughts, courses the spirited a remedy,
paper I have, but envelopes are in want, a late hour, a store's journey.
A store tends only a box of purple envelopes, as its price kills me more,
I relish the idea of the recipient who mirrors my mind on an even score,
ha, as I laugh in the gloom of no measure, stands I, keyless at the door.
An open window saved me—somewhat, as I grasped the desk nearby,
I felt it squished, splurting the unfinished work and my efforts applied,
loss bears its weight in value, I mailed purple graped, a knock replies I.
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