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.


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