I wish I could write a sonnet or two.
To rekindle a love that is long past.
Many times, I fear, my words are so few
But I am hoping that it will not last.
To write a ballad, Shakespearean kind
Would be the greatest feeling known to man.
I take this moment to open my mind.
Repeating to myself, “I think I can.”
Shall I write about the one that I love?
Or, shall I write about the sunset sky?
“Father,” I say as I look high above.
“Help me within this endeavor I try.”
I hear these words that are spoken to me
“I’m here for you throughout eternity.”
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