Shall I Compare Thee To A Fiction’l Man?
(translation: please send me brainrots)
Shall I compare thee to a fiction’l man?
I shan’t for that would be too great a praise:
Not one can match the splendour of dark tan,
Or depth of Gen’ral Mahamatra’s gaze.
Nor shall one ever hope to replicate
Detective’s eyes of steely olive green;
Unparalleled in their outstanding rate
Of ‘nearthing lies; so careful and so keen.
And their eternal pixels shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of mine hopeless heart,
Instead they both will make my mind unmade,
When from my constant thoughts they shalt not part,
So long as pixels shine, mine eyes will see
These fiction’l men who give life unto me.
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