Sonnet 15

[ehowton]

A shooting star across the evening sky
The earth rotates slowly on its axis
Time marches on and we never ask why
The only thing certain; life, death, taxes
Love is not a given, nor is it free
We wait our entire lives for a sign
The grass dies, leaves fall gently from the tree
You take what's yours and leave me what is mine
Afraid to face our emotional churn
Frightened of what it may reveal to us
Instead we watch the entire world burn
Uncertainty is certainly nonplussed
I await you under the old oak tree
Await for you to recognize its me