Shall I compare thee to a summer sweat?
Thou art more sticky, unwanted and unpleasant.
Rough wings smelling of piss do flow wild as you speak,
And your public lease is illegitimate.
Sometimes too hot your words break,
And often is other complexions marked to for sin.
And every justice spirited.
By chance our natures changing course, you win,
But summer swelters always end.
No power you have is fair, throughout!
And death will grab you, gold will not ascend,
When eternal lines to time thrown out.
So long as we can breathe or see,
You are ruing my life’s prosperity.