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All English Sonnets


Hampered by your pride, you do not come,
I – tortured by my ego do not call,
(And pining lovers- strangers thus become)
Such knotty issues on our heads do fall,

Defying all solution. Un- rescued,
In self created hells sulking sit,
And forget that this love is many-hued.
We slaves of situations gravely split,

Are deep in love but circumstances loath,
Unwanting to be humbled. Pettiness
Is reigning all supreme and we both
Are separated, burning in distress.

Averting eyes, refusing furtive cues,
And issues making out of non-issues.

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