Saturday, January 14, 2012

Sonnett XXVI My Lady Doth Have An Crappy Mood


I’m bored and tired of mere survival.
There is little more than social chatter,
And waiting for the mail’s dull arrival.
I even question the things that matter.
What value is Art if it’s all just lost?
Politics is a futile petition,
To politicians who don’t know the cost,
Of leaving us in a prone position.
I must remember the ride is too short,
And not one of us knows all the answers.
We are expected to hold down the fort,
Till we end in accidents or cancers.
Sick of listening to my whining voice,
But, sigh, I guess that I got no damned choice.

4 comments:

  1. Thank you so much JS, I am a student and have much to learn to even touch Shakespeare's hem but it's fun to modernize the.

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  2. Refreshing sonnet reflecting modern angst. I can completely relate to this poem, skillful job on the factions.
    -Michael

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  3. Thank you, Michael! I'm still working on keeping my pentameters proper!

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