A Sonnet In Which I Describe How My Weakness For Shiny Hair Nearly Causes Me To Compromise My Standards As An Intellectual

A Sonnet In Which I Describe How My Weakness For Shiny Hair Nearly Causes Me To Compromise My Standards As An Intellectual

When I first glimpsed you, weeks ago

I thought for sure I’d found “the One.”

You laughed and winked and moved in slow,

The sun shone down on your gold man-bun.

 

Alas, I was blinded by that light

But there is something I can’t ignore.

I can’t deny — you’re built just right

But dear, you’re something of a bore.

 

And so I’m stuck with inner war

You look at me, and I must swoon

But lis’ning has become a chore

I block my ears and hum a tune

 

And now I know this to be true:

That it’s not me, my dear, it’s you.

Laura Miller, Arts Editor
Laura Miller, Arts Editor
Written by Laura Miller, Arts Editor

Laura Miller works as the arts editor for the Record. She is a second-year student double-majoring in English and Spanish. Reach Laura at lymiller@goshen.edu.

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