What if I write a sonnet just for you?
You’ll get the extra credit you so need...
You can not predict the future
But if it is God-ordained...
Shivering heather
awaken to misty moors...
A mid-phase moon
is a sand machine...
When toddlers keep you busy through the day
By screaming, crying, pulling on their hair...
Fleeing from her bite
the giddy kitten of clock...
Bottle in hand,
I wonder whether this relapse is worth it...
I feel like fatigue and somnolence are drifting me...
but I know I shall not succumb to this lethargy...
The world is uneven.
It gave hawks to fishermen...
It seems today the force is calling me.
It ask that I should write a sonnet...
Time is spiral like a record
and now is the needle...
I never realised back then
that blacked out windows...