The end is coming, I must make that clear,
So I'll write you another spunky po'm,
And borrow something from the great Shakespeare;
Not that I want to budge him from his throne,
But 'parting is such sweet sorrow', it's shown
That oxymoron, indeed, reflects life;
Yes, from life we'll glean what is truth alone,
Whilst we battle our ways through all the strife,
And who said that eyes were the soul's window?
As poems are the heart's great megaphone.
But now my time is up, no more to sow,
No more stories to make a house a home,
The end is near, one more poem to go;
Do not fear, for 'Sonnet One' leads the flow...