Today I am feeling a little poetic and old school so I decided to write a sonnet, something I haven’t tried since high school when I studied Shakespeare. So in the form perfected by the Bard of Avon please accept my humble submission.
This is not going to be a love song,
Even though my heart swells with emotions.
The words I compose always come out wrong,
Betrayed and maligned by selfish passions.
Every single moment solitary,
While locked inside a cage of my design.
Every single moment arbitrary,
Malicious perceptions in fact benign.
The weight of this silence, too much to bear
I feel the pressure building in my chest.
The emptiness dissolves the thought to care,
The steady beating of my heart arrests.
A life halted, forever lost; wherein,
The quest to love oneself could not begin.