A Sonnet By An ''Other''
Like Frankenstein, I, too, am loathed to death;
I walk this earth devoid of friend and hearth,
devoid of joy from the time of my birth
and from the first draw of my infant's breath.
An outcast and a pariah among
the friended, I exist without the mirth
and bliss of those born of more ample worth,
esteem, and prize,—O would that I belong!
Still, I am loved of my dear family
and most scarce friends, my books, and by my God,
and my most oft-read, soothing Poetry.
These things I treasure, honor, and so laud
with gratitude and thanks abundantly,
and so am glad like worms in blesséd sod.
**Nota Bene! Revised version immediately below of above sonnet:
Like an outcast despised, I flee the heath;
devoid of friend and mirth, I trek this earth
and dwell alone from the time of my birth
almost from my first draw of infant's breath.
Unloved, without the world's shared shibboleth,
I am the face of tragedy, when hearth
and friendship's company withhold their worth,
closeness, esteem, and trust until my death.
But I still am loved by dear family,
and by my Rose, a blesséd gift from God;
whom, along with my oft-read poetry,
I treasure, honor, and so highly laud.
Though forever estranged in this country,
I still thus am glad like a frail seed in sod.
© Ngoc M. Nguyen. All rights reserved. Updated 23 April 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment