The Poets Pluck William Shakespeare
NOT FROM THE STARS DO I MY JUDGMENT PLUCK
Not even from the appeals or rotations of you made mine prime
May in the concept of past, perfections has stuck
WHEN IN THE CHRONICLE OF WASTED TIME
WHAT'S IN THE BRAIN THAT INK MAY CHARACTER
Never enough to define you, I came out to say
Walking on a thin line, so not ready for your twister
HOW CAREFUL WAS I WHEN I TOOK MY WAY
WHEN I CONSIDER EVERYTHING THAT GROWS
Loving every little of you is nothing at beginning
Picking the right or wrong, who ever knows?
MY LOVE STRENGTHENED THOUGH MORE WEAK IN SEEMING
Taking my risk to be fallen for a feel from hurt to heal
MY LOVE IS AS A FEVER, LONGING STILL
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