petrarchan sonnet

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Rose petals wrap against each other in their whispered secrets; too scared to reveal the charms they own. Masks are not ever real.
  People talk with nothing to really say, Complete boredom makes my eyes watch the floor But when I look up to observe the door,
Happy, are we, the dreaming sons of God, idyllic in Eden we sat and gave to beast and fish and bird the names that they’ve the ground travers’d, in flesh and fur abroad.
Worn eyes stare gently at my shy privilege  
Today, I am a person born anew I am nothing but a lovely pure dream Black beginning cast aside from sun beams And now I begin a life I do not rue For Death is not a thing that makes you blue
Legato, my heart, but sing with sweet joy The eternal tide of time tarries on Even though these moments have long been gone That is only our cruel mind’s clever ploy Dreams do not fade or fly; dreams do not die
Life is tough, so full of problems; look everywhere Pregnant teen girls aborting, drunk drivers crashing Oppressed children, drug addicts, couples breaking Prejudiced against Muslim girls with covered hair
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