A shakespearian sonnet


Sonnet for the whiner



A springtime joy has grown in me since march
so do not whine if I dont meet the norm
judge not the smile of mirth for being arch
you do not judge the sun for being warm

and yes, I'm silly, loud and yes I'm drunk
and yes, I'm clinging, yes you need the space
but we are life and flesh and blood not junk
this isn't any contest or a race

this is a meadow filled with buds and bees
and promises and gifts that all insists
on opportunities you have to squeeze
you'r broken by a weight that don't exists

and who is happy in this dreary play?
not him, not you, not anyone I say



Poetry by karl
Read 551 times
Written on 2005-05-26 at 02:14

Tags Warmth 

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