|Sonnet (standard:poetry, 112 words)|
|Author: DeadBeatGirl||Added: Nov 03 2003||Views/Reads: 1682/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|this was inspired by Shakespeares sonnets, using the same technicalities but a much darker subject matter.|
O Mother love, O Mother hate, I am that which thou didst create, Out goes anger and leaves despair, Heavy, it left me hanging there, Taking back violence, that thing I blame, I am but left with small words to maim. I seek out that which I cannot see, More cruel to ignore than to despise me. Concieved in rush of madness! Brought up on no less. Life cannot be lived as nothing, For that is surely death! So, I hurt my friends and harm myself, Because my pain is all my wealth. Birth could have been enough, with no tender thought, And death was much desired, but it came to naught. Tweet
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