Apr 2016
It's true, I hate them...
Sonnets are like bleak winter,
slow death to the soul.
Sonnets are like bleak winter,
slow death to the soul.
Poetry month prompt 23
I don't care for the sonnet form and I am an adult......so, here is this
and, to be true to the truth,
I struggle with the confines of iambic pentameter.....
I don't care for the sonnet form and I am an adult......so, here is this
and, to be true to the truth,
I struggle with the confines of iambic pentameter.....
(Oregon)
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