Shall I Compare Thee, to a Red, Red Rose?
No! You are More Vibrant and Beautiful.
To your Splendor, Nothing, quite, Comes Close.
There is, no Love, that I would Rather Hold.
Shall I Compare Thee, to a Starry Night?
No! For Stars, I have seen, Fall, from the sky.
Stars Fade away and thusly, Lose, their Light,
But, Never, Shall You Fall, Fade, In My Eyes.
Shall I Compare Thee, to a Work of Art,
Sculpted, Painted, or Wonderfully Scribed?
No! The Beauty, on me, which you Impart
Could not be Formed, Fashioned nor could One Write.
Hands, of a Man, Could Not Such Grace Design.
To Compare to you, Nothing, I Can Find.
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