We believe we must be gregarious.
In communal bonds families annoint
One another in a precarious
Need to follow one leader at the point.
Individuals are not relevant.
Momentary solitude makes us run.
In silence we find nothing elegant .
Time to search for innerpeace has begun.
"Oh' Catain, My Captain," cried Walt Whitman.
The captain is dead. There's no one we need.
We don't have to group to stop the hitman.
The single flower's a rose, not a ****.
We, need to be I, hear this confession:
Farewell friends, I am my new obsession.
This is an English Sonnet, but a Bouts-Rimes is a poetry challenge. My 14 rhymed words were a challenge from Rebecca Askew. I also gave her 14 words. It can be any number of rhymed words or written in any form. We decided to heighten the challenge by creating sonnets. It was a challenge but an enjoyable one. How did I do?