sonnet Of late Ive felt

Of late Ive been blue and Ive seen rag red
I wonder whether loves a form of hate?
Are swirling dots in front of eyes fear fed?
Ive many frenemies Ill numerate
Theres mates in reckless daring not yet dead
They channel natures forces just innate
Theres mates at macho in and out of bed
They clinch as cinch a compromising state
Theres mates inclined to voice a vivid lie
They skip omission plug thought granted gab
Theres mates of mannerism but bound to blab
They blurt am I a nuisance?  know whole why
Each head invites a solid one off smack
If I think it through I quite sport the knack
Chorus smack box clap