A (Bad) Sonnet to 30

Oh, 30. How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways. 
I loathe thee to the dark and deep and dank 
Place in my life: the utter reaches of life's other bank 
That marks the end of Youth and Innocence. 
I loathe thee without recompense. 
Yet on thou cometh, and hope rising, sank. 
I loathe thee with resignation, as I walk the Aged Plank. 
I loathe thee with regret, as men wish for more time. 
I loathe thee with the impulsiveness untamed In my youth, and with a laundry list of things To Do Before 30. 
I loathe thee with a fear so common, yet unnamed 
That I'll be this forever - I loathe thee for catching me unready 
To pass this watermark! - and if God be blamed For time? 
I shall try to not fear thee so.

based on EBB's Sonnet from the Portuguese #XLII

http://www3.amherst.edu/~rjyanco94/literature/elizabethbarrettbrowning/poems/sonnetsfromtheportuguese/howdoilovetheeletmecounttheways.html

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