A Sonnnet

This is a poem for the lack there of
No romance, no soft words, no emptiness
Only honesty here, and lack of love
Of one without gentle grace and finesse.
For I stand here as the cruel brutal one
Believing love hurts much more than it helps,
For love is the joke and we are the pun
And coldness is safer than trying is.
But somewhere in a lonely place there hides
A lonely hope that wishes to be found
So that when the last mortal coil sighs,
Hope and I will not miss the heartbeat sound.
Soul and mind war over weakness and want:
Not having, still wanting, and throwing out. 		 
A Sonnet
1.9.2003
Structure: English sonnet
Stanza Type: three quatrains, couplet
Lines: 14
Accents: iambic pentameter
Syllables: 10 per line
Rhyme:
a b a b
c d c d
e f e f
g g