I wrote a Petrarchan sonnet…about struggling to write a sonnet (obviously, this is another assignment for Creative Writing).
Exertion carves channels across my brow-
unkind company peering over my shoulder,
watching me tussle with this flooding polder,
laboring this structure I am so eager to disavow.
My mind is stretching, straining, quaking now
struggling to displace an immobile thought-boulder,
forsaking unbridled elocution, left to wither and smolder-
regrettably, to the vogue of Petrarch I must bow.
Flowering diction without rhyme becomes vapor,
lyrical tendrils unfurl into naught, heightening my desperation.
I am drowning, crushed by the waves of a sea of frustration.
I have struggled in vain and I’ll endure it no longer-
Do away with my pen, this crisp sheet of paper!
My distaste for ye olde sonnet has only grown stronger.