Least Read Sonnet Poems

Finding myself in the fire, I seethe.
Roasting under the breath of your harsh words.
You are suppressing me; I cannot breathe.
Smoke fills my lungs, my deliverance slurred.

Long gone is the compassion I once felt.
I have been left here with horror and fear.
Asking for assistance, I remain knelt.
Can my voice carry any favor here?

Like the phoenix, I rise from the ashes!
Demanding that you look into my eyes
as my talons engrave you with gashes.
I free myself from your prison of lies!

Spanning my wings, floating...

To me he was just, Roget Thesaurus,    
and I often thought of him as, my Roget,    
and took him to bed, just the two of us,    
and a head torch to guide me through his ways.    
   
Those rustling musty printed paper sheets    
that he and me often fell asleep in    
but he's an old weighty tome, not too sweet,    
and I'd often wake up with my arms aching    
   
Then one night when I was chasing some words    
all worked up with sleepy fingers and thumbs,    
I pocked my eye on his stiff spine and cursed     ...

Reincarnation? Ah, if only so...
would we remember could we leave a sign,
about self's death which happened... ages ago,
and visit our past self's grave, like a shrine?

Perhaps in a past life we were merely a flea
jumping round sucking up to make ends meet
and then when reincarnated to...me,
find fleas didn't know much to start with, shee'eet!

Though, in some archeological dig,
rummaging amongst old sarcophagi
the aged professor does a creaky jig
as he,  translates the hieroglyphs as  
                        ...