Monday, January 19, 2009

Sonnet

He went to the woods and never came back
A good man he was, a loved one he had
A group of brave men tried searching his track
When they saw him, he was scantily clad

Crazy as a mad cow the doctors said
her love cried herself to sleep every night
it would have been better if he was dead
then she wouldnt be in that grievous rite

She could take it no more, it was too much
Still with the memory of a dead man
Waking up each morning craving his touch
Never forgetting how it all began

No one ever knew what made him go mad
But she would never forget all they had



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