Sonnet: Life Unlived

Often I ask, “Am I a good writer?”

Internally of course, never out loud.

Of nothing I create have I felt proud

For my desire, I am not a fighter.

 

I try to make others lives seem brighter,

My personal passion I try to shroud.

I may have wants but they are not allowed,

My burden never seems to get lighter

 

I’m caught in between duty and desire,

Wanton wants, outstanding obligation

A fear of getting burned, or fear of fire?

At my final curtain, no ovation.

 

My life unlived, making me a liar

When I ignore my dreams and temptations.

Leave a Reply

WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this:
Skip to toolbar