romeo

I am beginning to see that love is an indulgence that is somewhat difficult to get. The fair beauty that is locked in my soul is in no desire to become my love. her beauty, her face is like its made out of porcelain. her eyes are like beautiful stars that shine, and her lips look as if someone had painted them perfectly with red paint. o! how my heart beats for that devilishly exsquisitegirl. my dear friend Benvolio tells me to move on and to forget that beautiful face of an angel. he tells me to find someone more extravagant, but I don't think there's room in my heart to do so. there was this rushed young man who came up to me today begging to read a scripture and it stated that there was a party being held at the Capulet's home. perhapsI can find her at the party.