A simple sonnet on a simple matter.
We idly cast away our speech
As if it was all made of dust,
When all the quiet hearts beseech
Is nothing more than will and lust.
But we know our hearts beguile,
So we don’t hear its fainting voice.
We try to make each other smile
And play along, we have no choice.
And lo! How eloquent you stand,
You are a master in this game
No matter how your spirit thrills.
But my pawns tremble in my hand
For you knew not my poet’s fame
Who weeps all night his lack of skills.