Quasi-Shakespearean Sonnet_2
Forget-me-nots were in your glance.
Perhaps I saw you in a city.
No game, no prize? And no pity!
Cause prudence is not a love-lance.
My conscience is like dirty mirror:
you won’t see yourself inside!
And only I keep in my mind
a legend where you are hero.
But reason tricks (”What kind of mall?”),
my sensor system is on duty:
is anywhere “Sleeping Beauty”,
not-watching-me, may be, at all?
If Memorizing is like torture,
Forgetting seems a cruel vulture.
11/06/2015
