A dime to kill for!

My words do not rhyme,
Not because it is a crime,
But due to a lack of time,
And the lousy clime.

You feel for the slime,
And snub the sublime,
All that I want is a dime,
For, I am in my prime.

Nonetheless, I will climb,
With a bottle of lime,
I will be stained with grime,
But, I hear the bells chime.

Marriage

The bride is one who must sway the broom,
The bride is one who must purge the gloom,
The bride is one who must save her womb,
The bride is one who must never fume,
And for error, there is no room.

The groom is one who must not presume,
That the bride is one who sprays perfume,
The groom is one who must not assume,
For, marriage is but the impending doom,
And for error, there is no room.