Sonnet # 19 by Luis A. Estable

For reasons many I the world do call
To come as one to turn pain, tears to mirth,
And like a seed in blessings huge though small
Step by step lat us fill with smiles the earth.
Why do we flowers with good eyes caress?
And even snakes find some who love them dear.
My deep tears through my mouth I do express.
Look at your mate; nothing on earth comes near.
The milk we drink from cows can give us health.
A golden ring to fingers the sky blue,
But nothing has my friend indeed more wealth
Tham,yes, a humna soul; your mind review.
In fact of those who have felt pain a cry
I want the world with its distress god-bye.

End of the poem

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