Words

Sonnet 23

As an unperfect actor on the stage,

Who with his fear is put besides his part,

Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,

Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;

So I, for fear of trust, forget to say

The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,

And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,

O'ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might.

O let my books be then the eloquence

And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,

Who plead for love and look for recompense

More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.

O learn to read what silent love hath writ!

To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.

William Shakespeare          

 

 

Like an actor who hasn’t learned his lines perfectly and forgets his part because of stage fright, or like some raging animal or human whose excessive passion makes it weak, so I, because I can’t trust myself, forget to say the things a guy should say to his girl; just when my love is strongest it seems to be getting weak. So let my writings speak for my heart instead. They plead for love better than I could if I spoke, even if I said more and more eloquently. Please, read in these silent lines the love I cannot express in speach. Love will help you read between the lines.

Billy S.

 

 

Listen, when i stand in front of you i get weak
in the knees and i can't even say a word. that's
why i've decided to write a message: i love u. i know
 this is not a suitable way to say that, but it's
the best one i've found. see you.
-B