Sonnet for Emily, A Too-Good Girl

September 23, 2008
By yourlonelylover PLATINUM, Harrington Park, New Jersey
yourlonelylover PLATINUM, Harrington Park, New Jersey
26 articles 1 photo 3 comments

My sanguine saint, how smeared you safety switch
Your feet of clay dried out in anger’s heat
A golden head, dead to suspicion’s itch
The bees swarm to your loving nectar sweet
A lamb had no voice to his master’s blade
But blood should not be drawn for you to know
Of selfish cloak, you need not be afraid
Un-dig your nails from skin, let the scab grow
In people’s pain you find yourself a use
An admirable trait in one so young
But loosen, at the very least, the noose
So a tune for your own sake can be sung
But if you do not listen here at all
Tell me, so I may dive to catch your fall

The author's comments:
My friend Emily inspired me here. She's always doing things for others, never for herself. If she read this poem, she would disagree, but that's just her.

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