devil will cry

shall i compare you to a summers day
you are more lovely and more delightful
rough winds shake the much loved buds of may
and summer is far too short


at times the sun is too hot
or often goes behind the clouds
and eveything that is beautiful will lose its beauty
by chance or in the natural order


but your youth will not fade
nor lose the beayty that you own
nor will death say that you belonge to him
because in my eternal poetry you will live forever


for as long there are people on this earth
so far will this poem live on
giving you immortality