So something I’ve told myself I’m going to start doing, Each day I’m going to write a sonnet, I may not always post them, but I will if I got nothing else. They are likely going to be just terrible because it’s more of an exercise to get better with words than any kind of attempt at anything legitimate. I usually don’t plan out anything, but start out where I’m feeling and work from there. Rhyming is always weird when you have to force it. I am also not keeping to any kind of meter per line for those sonnet nuts out here if you exist. Here’s the first one I wrote last night.
What could be more elusive than discipline?
The specter of death does not harry me so.
Much greater ease to…do a line
Than to organize thoughts for one to go.
So much is said to be gained,
From steadfast work and devotion,
And yet here I have remained,
my head sputtering with useless commotion.
Is this only a moment of clarity?
What befalls those with simple grandeur?
Is it all just mediocrity?
That to my face takes petty pander?
I fear I’m likely a fool’s simpleton
And that death would come easier than any discipline.
(I realize maybe some of you may not think this one is humorous, but It’s more of a sarcastic joke on how in shambles my life has been, I’ve been sick for the last few days but I finally cleaned out my room. It feels better, but I haven’t been in the best mood recently. Hence, a lot of stuff on my life falling into shambles. Hopefully with spring I’ll start to feel better and stuff I post can reflect that. Anyway, something to think about enjoy! (also I do not do cocaine, I couldn’t think of a good way to say what I wanted and rhyme it to discipline.)