Sonnet: There Are Others Sadder than Me

I’ve coughed for days and my lungs appear weak;
I’m not completely all right even now;
My poetry is however at its peak;
It is a wonder true; I don’t know how.

There isn’t a soul to talk kindly to me;
With saddened heart, I continue my rhymes;
I pray so often to the Almighty,
To lift my heart and give it better climes.

The world is getting worser, day by day;
The way people behave, bewilders me;
All love to live in their own wicked way;
The world is living in adultery.

And what about the unlucky victim?
Who cares to make the life for her less grim?

7-12-2002

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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