Honest Answer - sonnet
Will this be wise, I ponder and debate,
begin creation of a brave new place.
A new locale I deftly recreate,
replacing a cobweb enlaced old space.
The rarest goods lend strength to slats and joists,
like peelings from the poor cast of my eyes,
some syllables torn free from words unvoiced,
and lustre from kisses I've never tried.
This new residence for healing seems fine,
it's peace and quiet with no squeak of floor.
The window's view offers only my mind,
and the question why must I suffer more.
The honest answer is as cold as me,
I'll suffer only if I fail to see.
EaS
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