(This poem is part of a heroic crown of sonnets. For more information, see "Crown of Chaos, Crown Jewel")

At my potential I can only guess.

But all my doubts have been expressed before.

It does no good to document distress

So of unpleasant things I'll speak no more.

But they are not so easily dismissed

Emotions Die Hard like they're John McClane

Despite all your desires that they desist

They do persist and put you through much pain

But feelings are not singularly bad

They give us hope and joy and Schadenfreude

Although it sucks that sometimes we are sad

Emotions are a fact we can't avoid.

But that's enough of that for quite awhile.

I hope to end these sonnets with a smile.