Sonnet - 85 Poem by Xavier Mandreza

On which he Breathes with Eyes and Tempered Rose
Such are his Words too Follied to Regret
Whom I in Person sheared my Tongue morose
Then Filter my Sins in Clime to Forget
Why oh why Stubborn Conscience must Insist
To Play with the Norms this Gift they Refuse
Blind as my Plague your Lad's Fortune resist
These Shrivelled Hands took Release to Confuse
So then should these Bobbies arrest me Haste
Before my Guardian spins beyond Control:
The Artist - Entombed his Emotions to Waste
The Athlete - Claims his Happiness on Roll.
As Compelled to Yield the Filmer's Best Prize -
Inspiration decays to Substance devise.