RAWR :I

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun:
Coral is far more red than her lips red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red, and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath from my mistress wreaks
I love to hear her speak yet, well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress,when she walks,treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare


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║╩╣║║║║║ channel if you are or support
╚═╩╩╩╩═╝ Emos .♥.♥.♥.

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