#sonnet1

[crissanatomyblog]

Within thine own bud buriest thy content And, tender churl, makest waste inniggarding. Pity the world, or else this glutton be, To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee. #Sonnet1 #nofilter

[folioninja]

1896 Radioactivity #NeologismTimeposts #sonnet1 #parody

[softwallet-blog]

Making a famine where abundance lies, Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel: #sonnet1 #daidomoriyama #softwallet

[combatbows]

Sonnet 1

It just began with delivering mail;

Communication without face to face.

Generations passed said mail can’t prevail,

Which to others was an interesting case.

Now we pick up phones out of loneliness,

And we dial our loved ones far away.

Now we flatten our dress, try not to depress,

Because our friends over Facetime can’t stay.

Suspicions of others rise up over screens,

For we can’t read the intentions of text.

Ten minutes of silence -- jealous green;

Who knows what inventions shall appear next.

Now put down the phone and go take a walk;

your friend’s a good guy, you just need to talk.

[xskyedanex]

From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty's Rose might never die But, as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory. But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies. Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament And only herald to the gaudy spring, Within thine own bud buriest thy content And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding.    Pity the world, or else this glutton be:    To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

Shakespeare