That for which does not define me, said I.

Only thy love knows thy beats and measures.

Thy love is of the purest and demure.

My love for her I will never deny.

She soothes my pains and offers me pleasures.

She has the confidence to reassure,

that burden’s are overcome by hurdles.

She at times succumbs, to her own pressures.

Her frenzied muddled mind at times unsure.

With perseverance there are reversals.

We endure.


**Authors Note: Expect more poetry from yours truly, it’s my way of getting through whatever darkness that grabs a hold of me and won’t let go. In this case it’s dealing with what I left three years ago at my job only to come to terms that nothing has truly changed in returning to the department I left. I honestly thought by now, people would’ve matured into how they manage, I was mistaken. I needed to expel the pain and instead of wallowing in my own misery, the rhyme scheme and structure of this style of Sonnet coupled with listening to classical music and sitting across from my beautiful wife, the poem morphed into a love poem in the purest sense.**