Impressions

I had no idea what to title this... basically, I got fed up of people judging a book by its cover, of people saying that because something is beautiful or impressive that it's worth more than something simple and necessary. It's a Shakespearean sonnet, so

Are roses that are wilted and decayed,

    Vermillion petals turned to dreary dust,

    More worthy than the saffron weeds that sway

Between the concrete corsets of distrust?

 

And is it so that water choked with oil

    Of vast expanse, horizons every side,

    Gives greater life than crystal drops unspoiled

Due to the torrid tempest of the tides?

 

And is a sky that's painted sore with clouds

    That weep full lies, engulfing all the Sun,

    More worth its weight in gold, more bright, more proud,

Then skies anonymous to everyone?

 

                   Is mere existence such an even way

                             To bring to life the part that beauty plays?

Reviews

[Poeticpiers]

I think you chose the right title.How nice to see a formal offering for a change