I oft feel, mind is like a naughty boy,
The world around a tempting cookie jar
Beckoning one more on hide to enjoy,
It makes it hard to keep men from it far,
And renders perfect reason rules to bend,
‘One last time' never once remains the last,
Nor does the naughty boy learn from the past,
The game goes on; it's one without an end.
To be all so naughty some blame the mind,
Some blame cookies for all their tempting woes,
The fault is whilst not far from home to find,
I've seen men spite spring to bring summer close.
Poor man! One that matters over the mind,
And sole witness, watches wordless from hind.
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This conflict and pulls among body, mind, reason, and the voice of conscience or soul's voice, is being felt by all of us. And more often the body and mind ultimately get what they want. The soul's voice is suppressed. And the world goes on— a scene depicted in this piece.
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Sonnets | 02.12.11 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The game goes on! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Yes, you're spot on Edward Louis, thank you so much for visiting.