Transcendental Sonnet #491:
Something to Live For As I Die

Doomed utterly I write sonnets all the way down
Observations made along the way my descent
Chronicled and ruminated on what a clown
I have become when all is said and done a bum
Who thinks himself to be a poet nor repent
His folly nor write jolly poems by golly
But dark and deep I watch and weep while others sleep

Wake up you smug self-satisfied bastards! Come out
And see me die in the street beneath your window
But you cannot be bothered "What is this about?"
You ask me and I know that you will never know
No one asked me to come now you ask me to go

I am in love and that is as hopeless as I
Am but I have something to live for as I die

*~ ( + ) ~*

+Steven Curtis Lance

from Transcendental Sonnets, Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

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Phenominal, +steven! Golly, I love reading your sonnets. I feel as you do... that I think I am so deep and so poetic! *sigh*
Write, write, write! That's all there is to do when your head is heavy and your heart isn't strong enough to pull it up from looking at the heart spills on your paper.

Hmm... I have a poem that sounds like my little insignificant comment. I am going to post it under your poem. I hope you don't mind!!

.:My Pen:.
Sometimes I don't even think
I know what i feel without my pen
in my hand. As if my mind doesn't
work without black ink traumatizing
the page with my heart spills. I
can see it now, staining your shoes;
my tears falling through a pilot pen.