Oh, 30. How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways.
I loathe thee to the dark and deep and dank
Place in my life: the utter reaches of life's other bank
That marks the end of Youth and Innocence.
I loathe thee without recompense.
Yet on thou cometh, and hope rising, sank.
I loathe thee with resignation, as I walk the Aged Plank.
I loathe thee with regret, as men wish for more time.
I loathe thee with the impulsiveness untamed
In my youth, and with a laundry list of things To Do Before 30.
I loathe thee with a fear so common, yet unnamed
That I'll be this forever - I loathe thee for catching me unready
To pass this watermark! - and if God be blamed
For time? I shall try to not fear thee so.
written based on EBB's Sonnet from the Portuguese #XLII