Don't come crying to me later. You were warned.
Sonnets and I do not get along.
I hate it when things are nice and neat.
My willpower has never been that strong.
My poems have never been that sweet.
Sonnet, you will try to own my mind.
You will tell me where to go and why.
A backseat driver, never too kind,
grabbing the wheel. Well just you try!
It is from chaos that I create,
a messy old shelf full of junk,
old mementos, hungry, irate,
stacks of letters from a dusty trunk.
Don’t you dare delete a thing. These words are wild.
They’ll bite and sting.
GloPoWriMo Day 16 - a curtal sonnet
I used the Elizabethan rhyme scheme, I have 14 lines instead of 11 and my metre is all over the place. I probably broke a bunch of other rules along the way, but sonnets and I don't get along that well. I did enjoy truncating that last line, so this could maybe be a distant cousin of a real curtal sonnet. And, I am not going to lie, I enjoyed breaking all the other rules as well. I feel that the title gives a fair warning, though.
I did enjoy reading this.
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