Rhyming endings don't make it a poem, I'm in a rush go away

What you are not, for me:
A piece of tail
Yet I know, any attempt from me
Is bound to fail
For we know I'm a pathetic male
And you are the shining bale
who bathes in Golden ale
I'd go to jail
without a bail
If that meant love,
If I found you,
My holy grail.

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