I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee: R.B.

I watched a Sonnet be launched from my eye!

It cast a larger net around my Feet

than anything that ever existed .

Greater than Silence as first fell its Tears.

I cried for myself but more for the Verse.

For what had it done to deserve its Death?

A mere innocent fated to be Squelched

Yet, I still ask for answers for its Sake.

As in the seedling bed in a Field Cried:

Weeping the Mouse for its Shambles Untied.

The house was never meant for Surviving.

While its flower garden tended of Time.

Ready as the Reply never asked for,

its fourteen little crosses were made more.

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