Sonnet # 11 by Luis A. Estable

These words are not to cut their lives in tears;
Not to condemn with fire, or them abuse.
But absolute is nothing; it appears.
Think through my true concern: the female use.
So what`s the axiom in terms of mind
If one develops dirty taste with mirth?
Do you allow the freedom; play heart-kind?
Or call indeed the world, a limit forthwith?
So homosexuality, what then?
Is it for thirst that drunks so madly drink?
I think they are to fondle women: men.
Their role does die when otherwise they think.
I don`t know much, but I of flowers do.
Their beauty`s sad if man don`t look them through.

End of the poem

15 random poems