a Shakespearean sonnet by Xinhua
With that device there ringing once again,
I lie here in the comfort of the cushions,
enveloping my faint soul even when
the beacon that’s outside my window brightens.
The heaviness, perpetuating this
desire for slumber, makes my will go weak.
I find my bliss these days to be amiss.
Distrusting, how did I become so bleak?
My eyes, dead, staring at that comely sunrise;
this uneventful life is all the same;
can only look down, never to the skies.
With automated movements, have I no shame?
But in my heart, a hurricane is whirling.
My vision, blurring, slowly I see nothing.
Xinhua is a freshman. She says, “There isn’t a certain time I started to like writing. It was more of a gradual change. I usually just free write to relieve emotions.”