William Shakespeare
Warwickshire
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Sonnet Xvi

Rating: 3.9
But wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
And fortify yourself in your decay
With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?
Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
And many maiden gardens yet unset
With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,
Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
So should the lines of life that life repair,
Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen,
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,
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COMMENTS
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 
0 1 Reply
Egal Bohen 28 November 2007
To give your all to life says Will Within you keeps yourself, more ever still So battle not the wrinkles, but live life Make war with time, that tyrant For, in doing shall thy life be then fulfilled Great message Will!
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