William Shakespeare's sonnet number 2
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy Youth's proud livery, so gaz'd on now,
Will be a tatter'd weed of small worth held:
Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deepsunken eyes,
Where an all-eating same and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer--'this fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse--'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new-madewhen thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st cold.
I really liked this poem because it directly relates to why I'm not going to settle for second best; its just not worth it.
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy Youth's proud livery, so gaz'd on now,
Will be a tatter'd weed of small worth held:
Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deepsunken eyes,
Where an all-eating same and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer--'this fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse--'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new-madewhen thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st cold.
I really liked this poem because it directly relates to why I'm not going to settle for second best; its just not worth it.