America's Sonnet
Prologue 'Breathing: American Sonnets'
It is so hard to write you this sonnet because I long for you in another way. I want to feel justified, make it like 'Shall I compare thee to a summer day? ' But there was that summer day, one man with all those guns that you allowed him to buy to kill. He was an American- style imposter. I want you to be true.
I want to say those are your pretty wrongs, you being mine, my land of liberty. Then you go behind my back. Someone cons me, your NSA. Your fool becomes me. My sonnet's yours America, but you will not turn all my loves, my black, brown, blue.
December 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem