Categories > Original > Poetry0 Reviews
A Shakespearean sonnet I had to write for creative writing last year.
Never ceasing until you leave.
But would life be so cruel to leave me uncured
Of this insufferable disease?
And what else could love unrequited be
But a sickness of the mind.
And, of course, my eyes could never see
What my heart won’t allow me to find.
But even now as I speak these truths
I know I could never really mean them.
My heart is all too fond of you
And my mind could never compete then.
Though logic tells me my heart is wrong,
My heart sings out its own song.