I'm not familiar with anything from the cuneiform age, but I know a poem that I think was written by Martial:

The golden hair that Gulla wears is hers.
Who would have thought it?
She swears 'tis hers
And true she swears
For I know where she bought it.

Another one (not sure of the author):

Though you serve the best wines, Paulus,
rumor opines
that you poisoned your four wives,
I think.
It's, of course, all a lie!
None believes less than I!
No, I really don't care for a drink.