Your mistress' eyes are filled with fire (in response to Shakespeare's "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun")

Well Sir, I say my eyes are bright and shinning
My lips, as red as candy apple's skin
My breasts are fine so quit your whining
My hair is divine, Sir I think I win.
Wires you say? Your creativity is declining.
Roses can't compare to my cheeks, pink with sin.
My perfume is alluring, thats why you men are pining.
I am beautiful, and with that I say FIN.
Now Sir, its my turn, lets take a look at you
Your hair... Your breath... You're just a mess.
Your voice sounds like a cat thats dying
You're no model either boo boo
So please Sir, criticize me less.
Now we're over, don't come back to me crying.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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