Prosecute the torture.

June 14, 2016

A Sonnet from Lin-Manuel Miranda

My wife’s the reason anything gets done.
She nudges me towards promise by degrees.
She is a perfect symphony of one.
Our son is her most beautiful reprise.

We chase the melodies that seem to find us
until they’re finished songs and start to play.
When senseless acts of tragedy remind us
that nothing here is promised, not one day.

This show is proof that history remembers.
We live through times when hate and fear seem stronger.
We rise and fall and light from dying embers
remembrance that hope and love last forever.

Love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love cannot be killed or swept aside.
I sing Vanessa’s symphony. Eliza tells her story. We’ll fill the world with music, love, and pride. 
Fourteen lines in (mostly) iambic pentameter, three quatrains with a rhyming couple at the end, and all of it in an abab - cdcd - efef - gg rhyme scheme.

Shakespeare all the way, baby.

And if you think it was all about "Hamilton" or a Tony Award, you haven't been watching the news.

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