Thursday, March 26, 2009
Pretty Follies
But love is blindAnd lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that
They themselves commit
My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr;d;
And I myself see not the bottom of it.
Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.
We are truly lovers, run into strange capers.
Prosperity's the very bond of love.
So we profess.
Ourselves to be the slaves of chance
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
Travelers must be content.
It is the stars,
The stars above us, govern our conditions
Who says mystery novels don't have shakespeares? And the word lovers is attractive only when shakespeares uses it.
You can't play on broken strings
You can't feel anything that
Your heart don't want to feel
I cant tell you something that ain't real
Well truth hurts and a lie's worse
How can I give anymore when
I love you a little less than before
On 6:05 PM, Elizabeth Zee Sparks let go.
