Sonnet #420

(this is a Sonnet that I wrote in 12th grade for my AP/IB English class)

How life's turbulance holds us like a thief.
In the prison of minds conscience is found,
the key to our own sanity is chief,
in melody of our mixing the sound.

Of love and laughter becomes a symbol,
for when I ponder lifes reason, and see
my gifts, my skill, my joy and goal
in life is not to drift through space, but be

As good as our ability allows
our life to run its course all etched in stone
but when I think of how a right man bows
or how the penitent man must be shown

the path for which is found fruit all well-known
is given wisdom not to even go