Sonnet 1,600


The country’s gone to rot, or so it seems
With fighting and despair amongst the troops
As former friendships tore their own frayed seams
And hate befell a gaily dancing troupe
It’s like the earth has taken a mad pact
To hate each living speck, each human mote
Where once was calm be now with haters packed
A land unsaved by its surrounding moat
If hating pairs of men who walk the aisle
Is in our skin now, seeping through our pores
I’d rather shed that skin and leave this Isle
And hope that others’ thoughts would join in pause

Utopia’s a lie and life’s no beach
But MUST we go once more unto the breach?


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