(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.