Musings of the Mad

Take THAT procrastination!

If love weren’t life I’d leave it where it stood

It seems I always give more than I get

And if she floats she’s cert’ainly made of wood.

But above all that we know that she is wet!

Once I loved more deeply than the sea

A longing every moment for her touch.

But love is often confused for lust by teens

And as a teen I lusted quite a lot.

I didn’t even know this was a sonnet.

And now another stanza I must fill.

For your illness, I’ll prescribe a tonic.

But for your heart, I pray the news is ill.

But this is life, and thus then this is love.

From Hell below, it’s sent, not from above.