Shall i, compare thee to a dream of Spring?
For when i entered a state of slumber
My melancholy mood, began blooming
Into a mood, that brought fourth its flower.
Thou art more sweeter than a buzzing bee.
A conquerer; more regal than a queen.
Pollinating my sadness into glee.
Turning the dry desert , of my heart green.
Of you, the very air must be jealous.
Scent from heaven; thou aroma will lure
Many men to come your way and make fuss.
In illness, hoping you will be their cure.
But alas; i awoke from my slumber
Feeling cold from the bold bitter winter.
When anger rises, think of consequences.Confucius