Ode to Theodore
For: no one in particular

This is an ode for Theodore,
One whom I foolishly adore.
It is peculiar, it is insane
How I loved you, and love you in vain
You might think I’m mad, and
You won’t be wrong, my friend
For all well know that only a fool
Would dare love Theodore like I do
Indeed a fool, a fool like no other
Fool who’d love one in arms of another!
Though hard I struggle, I’m succumbing
Infatuation’s my unbecoming.

As you well know, dear Theodore,
Whom I adore yet so abhor,
I do not know quite why I love you
Idiotically, as I still do
Perhaps it’s your smile, or sporadic wit
That has somehow attracted this nitwit
And you know it as well as I do,
I’m truly that quixotic on you.

You should fear not, oh Theodore!
For my love is not true
Elusiveness I sure adore,
But certainly not you!
That’s what I try to tell myself, at least
In order for these feelings to decease
Fear not, another’s Theodore!
Your charm will torment me no more
No longer,
Will you keep me awake at night
No longer;
You’ll no longer be my delight
Gift of God, no longer shall I suffer
Because I’ll forget my distant Theodore.