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a Pathetic Sonnet
Her hair is golden, like a marigold?
Oh, it will wither away…
Look here! Her smile is a crescent moon?
Nah, it’s too far away…
And there too! Her eyes are emeralds?
No, No, No, Nah, Nah, Nah!
Am I so pathetic, so hesitant,
another Prufrock who has no intent?
Here is another one!
Keep on walking, keep on walking, don’t look, don’t look.
I am petrified by her gaze,
mortified by her smile,
terrified, horrified by her presence!
Leave me alone and let me wither away in my dreams…
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Whenever I see a pretty girl, this is me.