The Tradition

a sonnet. I see why so many were fond of writing them. its really quite catchy!

I am descended from Whitman and Hughes,
From Keats' parting words and Shakespeare's sweet tune,
From piano jazz and rhythm and blues,
To midnight love songs from man to the moon.
It isn't our bloodline that is the same,
But love of summer, and nocturnal rain,
A tradition of bodies without shame,
Loving and living through comfort and pain.
I am descended and you can be too,
Embrace their laments and preserve their thought,
Their revelations in the world imbue,
The battle of ideas hasn't been fought.
Love and be loved, enjoy and be enjoyed,
For one day all of this will be destroyed.

The End

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