More Shakespeare's Sonnets
By Fox-Trot-9

Sonnet 78: The Poet
(Admonishments 5)

Thou think'st thy naked faults well hid,
Thy heart's confessions well concealed?
Avoid that foolish fruitless bid
And have thy lies and sins repealed.
A sinner hath a sinner's fall,
When loving false and scorning truth
Becomes his sport, his aim, his all—
In all, defacing his sweet youth.
Yet who am I to call thee foul,
Who shares thy kindred foul and fine?
In me shalt thou not know a scowl,
For both our faults we'll redefine.
      The faults we share as lovers twain
      Will shield us both from all disdain.

(To be continued...)

A/N: 5th installment and counting... ( ^_^ ) And just for the sake of variety, I decided to make it iambic tetrameter (4 iambs) instead of the customary iambic pentameter (5 iambs)...