Bad by Design...
...making an effort to concoct a bad poem this time.

MY LOVELY ROSE PETAL LADY
Canto I:
Indeed, I exude affection for thee.
Such limitless adoration that
is unencumbered by trivial flaws,
Such as:
-The way, when you sneeze, that you
jettison long tendrils of snot
propelled by your nose*
towards the buttercups
and dandelions. Dang.
-The mighty serpent with
the dog's head** that grows
from the back of your skull
and threatens to kill me in some
language it speaks backwards.
-The time you stole my credit card
and smoked it.
-The unholy spetre that inhabits
your left ankle, just below the shin.

Canto II:
NO! My lady, I take such things not
into account. But instead focus on
things such as: (here I enumerate again)
-The fell manner in which you wield plastic
utensils and slay bees when on picnics.
-Your polydatile right hand.***
-The purposeful way you bake things
only to use your pan-dimensional worm-hole
generator to send them away...far...far...away.

Canto III:
And things that shall go unmentioned,
save only in parenthetical side-notes:
(-Your fey demeanor that leads you oft to
try to bring about thine own demise
with that of others.)
(-The neighbors lawnmower****.)
(-A five-by-five square of gauze you choose
to keep in your ear for no reason save
tradition.)

Epilogue:
And the perambulator,
shortened, pram,
lost all hold on me...
...baby.

Footnotes:
*Aided by the force of gravity, of course.
**Which we have dubbed Snake-nubis.
***Seven fingers on the right hand is a good omen in ancient Babylonian culture.
****Seeking a new high, you stole and smoked this as well.