Email Poem

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Poem

"True, I talk of dreams and things to be
That bemete nothing but vain fantasy
Because they lie in the child of an idled man
And yet you choose not to understand."

In all my pain and distress
Broken hearted still trying my best
I've been battered and tossed
Suffered from stiffened gains and great loss
Fictitious predicitions
Dictioning my heart beats and burns
Chizles and churns
Impatient for love's turn
Hatred halted and seized
Completely rotated 180 degrees
My spirit whines and questions me

Did my soul love til now
Foreswear it's sight
For I never appreciated true love or beauty
Until that night

Eminent details like a Siberian tiger stripe
But in my prime my love is Him
I turn to face all corners in my prism
Complexly complicated like a Sodoku rubic's cube
He calls me Juliet because he's my Montague:

My only love sprung from my only hate
Too early seen unknown and known too late
Prodigious birth of love it is to me
That I must love my loathed enemy

The lines of poetic Juliet
I guessed that would certify my destiny of a Capulet
I open my soul to greet my mind
Of what my heart chose to leave behind
The simplest situation should shield me from whats new
For your love is my strength and strength will get me through
Feasting presence of the softest music to attending ears
The silver sweet sound of a lovers tongue by night appears
And yet still, our families, they try to seize
The pure fire from our hands and don't believe
Even in vestal modesty
They attempt to steal immortal blessings I give to thee
And as the envious moon glows and tides rise
What has become true will then become wise
It is then that love lies
Not in our hearts but in the heart of our eyes

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