Stealing from Shakespeare

You are far more to me than you are to thee


I have killed cold nights in hope of a single day

When I may feel okay, I may feel temperate

And without any doubt I May

Waste all my life this way; for a worthwhile date

your picture stuck on my wall shines

Against LED vines; that I keep dimmed

The saturation in them declines

Like poetry lines; grown but untrimmed




And I would happily let myself similarly fade

In exchange for a moment with you that I ow’st

For I may trade a thousand sun for your shade

And like a 'shroom in the dark I may grow’st




You will get my crazy, bend down and see

You are far more to me than you are to thee

__________

Rhymes stolen from

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

(Sonnet 18) William Shakespeare, 1564 – 1616

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