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Sonnet

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It is like a book being read to you,
Stories and burdens all under despair,
It hurts so bad but it’s just so true,
a heart, eagerly awaiting repair.
It is like a preacher along the streets,
No one listens, but they all stop and stare.
It’s the derivation so discreet,
Just a few words and some freedom to share.
It is like the closing of a play,
A few last lines and the cast comes among.
A bittersweet act; the end of today,
While dusk falls asleep, another day gone.
And though the day may be sweet or sour,
the true emotions lay in your power.





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