Sonnet 55 – Death and Taxes
What more can I say? There’s nothing I can do.
Is Love enough to rescue fading souls?
No one in the right mind would desire you,
It’s getting late; too late for reaching goals.
Eat a meal and sing a song or three,
And take five days and fly to Seattle.
No one to give a shit if I am free,
All these sad words are just a Death’s rattle.
Oh, yes! Of course! I know it could be worse.
I’m safe in the suburbs with food and friends.
I know that there’s nothing that I should curse,
It’s time to wrap it up and plan our ends.
Our time upon the stage nearing curtain,
Just death and taxes are safely certain.