Sonnet 1 Poem by Aman Dheer

My demeanor is thy mistake
For thou wither down my spine,
and colour the world for thy sake
Where ye sit idled among mine,

The girdled pillar rests on his skin
and stares at me with his eyes,
The marble floor leaks my sins
for ages fly hence with the bise,

Cupid pierces thou with an arrow
Yet I smile with my grin teeth out,
It's something thou cannot borrow
For I get hugged by a deadly gout,

The time is now begone
And mistresses art now drawn