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