79 words, 12 lines
Form: Couplets of eight-syllable lines
The mailbox, plastic and metal,
today it had just one letter
carefully you held it and said
“it’s the same white as my bed
if truth’s wrapped in an envelope
my love will tell me to elope”
but when you tore open the flap
madly you cursed at the old chap
then in blues, you released a sigh
as you could just fall down and die
that monster had left you for good
and took your pal to Hollywood