Description: Hello! It is I, finally truly trying to live up to my title of poet.
To be honest, this is really just my first attempt at Italian style sonnets. The meaning sort of flowed out on it's own. In the true Italian style, the poem should switch voice/opinion at the start of the ninth line, I'm not sure if I did that well enough...
Anyway, critics make me smile! Comment, pretty please?
There is no pleasant dream worth dying for,
though it may be the thought of some brave fools.
There's no reason to live by all the rules
that have the honor of a drunken whore.
Life shall never be what it was before.
For the white heat of youth, it quickly cools
and leaves only a few hard earned jewels.
And yet the foolish children will still fight,
and with each win, they will grow a little
for no blood should ever be shed in vain.
Each brave young soul, convinced his laws are right,
to fight for his code and his comrades slain.
Such passionate fools I can't belittle.