The Poets Pluck William Shakespeare

NOT FROM THE STARS DO I MY JUDGMENT PLUCK Not even from the appeals or rotations of you made mine prime May in the concept of past, perfections has stuck WHEN IN THE CHRONICLE OF WASTED TIME WHAT'S IN THE BRAIN THAT INK MAY CHARACTER Never enough to define you, I came out to say Walking on a thin line, so not ready for your twister HOW CAREFUL WAS I WHEN I TOOK MY WAY WHEN I CONSIDER EVERYTHING THAT GROWS Loving every little of you is nothing at beginning Picking the right or wrong, who ever knows? MY LOVE STRENGTHENED THOUGH MORE WEAK IN SEEMING Taking my risk to be fallen for a feel from hurt to heal MY LOVE IS AS A FEVER, LONGING STILL