Sonnet of the Muddy Shoes

I have new shoes that must be worn outside

Looking out my window, people walk their dogs,

The sun, the mud and puddles they're all calling me now.

I see trees, and flowers and the wind that blows.

I'd walk the streets, go up and down and run

And some people do, they're waiting for the bus

They have dirt on their shoes, I think they're having fun

'What's Coronavirus? What's with all this fuss?"

But my room is inside, it's inside the house:

No dirt, no virus, no air, no rain, no sun.

My shoes are clean, I look at them for hours.

They shine as if they've never been worn by one.

Shoes go on adventures and shoes get muddy,

And I'll take them on one day, while it is still sunny.

Today is World Poetry Day, so I decided to write a sonnet. I have no idea why. It was so hard to write… It has rhymes (it is impossible for me to translate it properly in Romanian), and such a strict form and all that. It was a horrible process, and I might not repeat it again. For a moment I wanted to give up and write it any other way. However, I decided to finish it. I’m not sure I like it, but here it is.