Sonnet 19
Cupid, why hast thou cursed me with thy bow?
Enchanting my desires and compliments
Unto a woman who seems not to show
The same affections of my hearts contents
Of vibrant colors I pick each a flower
Laying them by her doorsteps where I daze
I dream of her awake at sunlight hour
Kissing her image that my mind displays
Yet I am like the rain above her head
The way she runs away from showered gifts
I never knew inside my heart could shred
Heartbroken by her distant love that drifts
Only if thy arrow and bow had missed
My fate and love for her would not exist
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