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Friday, May 09, 2008

Sonnet CXXX

I heard a kid say to his friends today:
“I’d rather kill myself through suicide
than die of heart disease or weak old age.”

On hearing this, I felt as though a knife
had stabbed me, each and every painful way.
Is life so filled with twisted, wicked strife?

Perhaps it’s come to this. The world’s just waste:
the GM foods and artificial fare,
the speed of life reducing it to haste,
the perfect little fruits, synthetic wares,
the global warming caused by sad distaste,
the cancer lurking mutely everywhere,
the crises of economies still chaste.

Perhaps our happiness has turned too rare?


  1. wow, that's logical. Maybe it's true, or maybe he's just joking., like how people would just casually say "I'd rather kill myself than do ..."

  2. Thank you, Alice. I used his rather unusual remark to prove my point here. The comment was really quite out of the blue and made me feel quite puzzled at the time.

  3. Another inverted Petrarchan sonnet, this one opens with two groups of three, then ends with two groups of four.


A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!