SONNET 542
By JH Sayyar
From wise thought you want
The finest words with no taint
The copies of beauties haunt!
Prevents bringing forth infant
Your issue rose, no fragrance
Just like crows on the bough
Pure false emotions intense!
Reap weeds, if worst you sow
Your copy your eyes expose
Thought prints copies if tries
You left behind no copy Rose
Your copy shines after surmise
Your stale copy in shapes cries
I write lines you to immortalize
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