Poetry: Tidings of Strange Fortune

The thing about a certain man of means is that he often means to say

That what he means isn’t meaningful at all but rather merely a means

Of being mean and demanding meager fortune spin once more her wheel

Meandering through life he goes blowing and blustering about on

Ill-conceived winds and uncertain honours are granted him although

It is dishonour that he meant to bring and under greatest stress

Diamonds and rubies are born and a treasure chest filled with

Lessons learned under your tutelage applied now to better and brighter

Futures plans people moments and oh the day I met you I heard such

Tidings of strange fortune

How blessed was I to follow such an unusual call and I thank thee

For what you meant to me and how I managed to make meaning

From mean memories and misery filled moments that I once called

Meaningful to me your mirroring lost forever in my sweet melody

You didn’t mean for it to end this way but I mean it truly when I say

Many meanings amongst my words but every single time have I meant it

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