No sonnets

Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?
No, for I am not old Will.
I cannot scribe you a bouquet 
nor utter you paintings, still. 
Sour Winters haunt my lines; mine
and his, seasons apart.
A pauper in song, coin and words
but for you, rich is my heart. 
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nightlight1220's picture

I LOVE it!!!! No b.s.

I LOVE it!!!! No b.s. please...just action!! HA HAAAA!!!!


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "


Sansimi's picture

I'm not quite sure what

I'm not quite sure what comment you are trying to make but thank you nevertheless!