Sonnet #18

(a parody)
Shall I compare thee to a bale of hay?
Thou art more dusty and far less neat.
Rough winds do toss thy mop about, I'd say,
Which looks far worse than hay a horse would eat.
Sometime thy squinty eye looks into mine
Through stringy, greasy hair that needs be trimm'd,
And ne'er a horse had such a stench as thine,
As though in stagnant sewers thou hast swimm'd.
Thy disgusting image shall not fade;
This my tortured mind and soul doth know.
O, I should love to hit thee with a spade;
And with that blow I hope that thou wouldst go.
So long as I can breathe, my eyes can see,
And I can run, I'll stay away from thee...

Sonnet #18
(a parody)

Shall I compare thee to a nacho chip?

Thou art more crunchy -- though without the cheese:
Rough winds do blow when I forget the dip,
For nachos are so very hard to please:
Sometimes too hot, so I must let them cool,
And often is their gold complexion dimm'd,
But only when I make them like a fool,
By chance they burn like candles yet untrimm'd:
But thy eternal crunchiness won't fade,
Nor burn like all my failed attempts to bake,
Nor shall you be like these -- so poorly made,
Which in eternal snacking I forsake.
So long as men can breathe and tongue can taste,
Your nacho-likeness will not be erased.

Sonnet #18
(a parody)
Shall I compare thee to a dirty sock?
Thou art more stinky and far less clean.
Thy hair makes me prefer my socks.
Thy unholy breath be four times worth.
Thou have more holes in thou personality.
Thou squeaky voice should be forbid'n,
or thy mouth should be nailed shut.
Thy art below me on the ice cold ground.
I would rather die than from stench than kiss you on thy horrid face.
Shall I compare thee to a dirty sock?
thou art more stinky and far less clean.

Sonnet #18
(a parody)
Shall I compare thee to a winters day?
Thou art more heartless and more sinister:
thy storms dispel all conscious thought of May,
and summer memories as fast inter:

behind clouds oft the eye of heaven shines,

till both his golden crown and glories fade just so upon all fair thy darkness dines,
consigning every hope and dream to shade;

but thy eternal winter shall not wilt,

nor lose possession of those joys consumed,
nor shall dire death thy hateful hunger jilt
no, by eternal chains am I thus doomed;

so long as I can stand your frozen stare,

so long dies all I know in life as fair.

Sonnet #18
(a parody)
Shall I compare thee to a hazardous substance?
Thou art more corrosive and more volatile
Bases may restore the pH balance
And sweeten the bitterest of acid's bile

Oft the hot zone is too cold

And the substances too stable
Peroxide may or may not explode
If the catalyst is not disabled

But thy components are too hazardous

To be stabilized or confined
Thy radiation is cancerous
Thou strike'st the hazmat team blind

So long as men can breathe and die of inhalation

So long shall thou be toxic and cause asphyxiation

Sonnet #18
(a parody)
Shall I compare thee to my monthly pay?
Thou art cheaper and more desperate.
Rough times do come our way,
And we shall part ways at any rate.

Sometime too hot the oven bakes our dine,

And often is the pies gold complexion burnd;
Your cooking, looks and smell continually decline,
Through chance or time, youve never learnd.

But thy idiotic comments are never late,

Nor lose their place as the lowest;
Nor shall I brag thou know me, or that youve ever been near my shade,
When in reality I see everyday those facial wrinkles growest.

So long as you can breathe and I can see,

So long my mission is never over till I take life from thee.