Let's keep it simple stupid
And not require the use of Cupid
14 lines is all we need
The scheme of your rhymes you should heed
Four 4 line stanzas discribe a challenge
Or predicament we want to avenge
And last just a couplet to resolve the whole mess
Cause simple answers are always the best
The Bard would be proud if you answered this call
The Brownings would gurgle their pride in you all
So grab your quill pen and a scrap piece of parchment
Just scratch out some lines like a Rennaisance gent
Look to your soul and discover your muse
A sonnet! A sonnet! A sonnet I choose.
I stood upon the brink of life
Afraid of what I spied
Miles and miles of pain and strife
Wouldn't it be easier to hide?
I wondered if jumping off was best
Or never leaving at all
Should I opt for an easier test
Or risk that I might fall
Perhaps I might find trouble there
But then it might be fun
The clouds are so thick I can't see where
No details, not even the sun
A venture not tried leaves a doubting stain
Leaving no chance for a possible gain
In my youth I believed all things would last.
I felt no affinity to the past.
I lay my seeds shallow among steep grass,
Without fear that any storm could amass.
In middle age, I planted rows deeper,
And pleaded for good yields from my reaper.
Storms stayed quite heavy, and grass grew steeper.
Nature remained the ultimate keeper.
Now, old age furrows my temple and brow,
And my depression can sharpen its plow.
The storm rages within me even now.
Yet, I refuse to relinquish somehow.
In the end, nature will have its own way,
Until then, though, I will not give a day.
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