I am strong
Yet I am weak.
I am the song
That cannot speak.
There is a rythm
All must follow.
There is a bosom
Above each hallow.
I can't sing the song of love,
Or any song at all.
But one must use a glove
to sap the one who calls.
I am the sorry pun,
farewell bright sun.
Yet I am weak.
I am the song
That cannot speak.
There is a rythm
All must follow.
There is a bosom
Above each hallow.
I can't sing the song of love,
Or any song at all.
But one must use a glove
to sap the one who calls.
I am the sorry pun,
farewell bright sun.
~This is my sorry attempt in creating a sonnet~