With each passing day’s sorrow I write you
Page after page, yet never to be seen.
My words, yet exaggerated, ring true.
My pen is the voice of quiet heart’s means.
Thoughts remain in the darkness of my mind,
For my verses shan’t see the light of day.
Though vividly bold, these words you shall find
Are not to be heard, silently they lay.
Repressing these feelings, life crawling on;
Deceiving my heart to salvage what’s left.
Hoping that some day I’d realize I’m wrong,
And be so daring, like when we first met.
To build this courage, to let my words sing,
What have I to lose, except everything?
Sonnet 1: This Sonnet is a Good Read When Your Valentine is an Inanimate Object
