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These are the things I know.

No Comparison - An Anti Sonnett

Shall I compare you to things I admire?
Tie you in bunches of fresh word flowers?
Both of us know that they'll wilt and tire,
But still they place you within my powers.
Why? To compare you is to control you:
If I say you're eternal summer to me,
It follows that this can only be true
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see.

Instead I'll accept your uniqueness
Will live when I have gone,
And might be shared, if you impress
Your lovely self an an other one.
So back to the question, "Shall I compare you?"
I just don't think it'd be fair to.

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