I've had enough
of the words of rhyme
Locked away behind
the bars of stanzas
doing time
All the hopes
and wanna be dreams . . .
Just more nightmares
with chilling screams
No I had it !
and I don't want anymore
I don't want someone knocking with words to implore
Go take your metre ,
Yellow pencils number four
I don't want to hear you
knocking on my door
You can go post
and share with the world
Shelly , Keats , Byron . . .
They all make me feel sterile
A sonnet for your bonnet
Haiku for beret
You can put a quill to it
Go have your good Shakespearean
day