Sonnet
The flavor of orange isn’t that sweet,
tell me why it reminds me of you, then?
I look for you in everything, even.
See, I’m not a star, I’m not talented.
My words aren’t special, and I keep thinking,
will this matter anyway? Should I stop?
But I can’t, because no matter the color,
you will rattle my mind every damn time.
Metaphorically, may I say, and
right, dramatically, through this I may…
even taste the colors that you favor.
My conscience will run in circles, but I?
I will not care, for my life will be worth,
So much more than what I would like to say.
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