As part of my current desire to dabble in poetic forms, I thought I'd experiment with the structure of the sonnets and see what emerged (if I've understood the structures correctly). The results are a mish-mash of ideas (and maybe even a bit of a mess) built around the theme of fire and probably need a lot of work, but they're kind of interesting explorations of an embarrassing, self-indulgent something or other that remains undefined and which would probably embarrass the average angst-filled adolescent, and ought not to be taken too seriously.
(2) Dying fires
I need to find something that I can do
Creative arts to quell my aching need
To try, for once, to create something new
To plant, perhaps, an idea or a seed -
Trying to find something to be good at
A thing to do at which I can excel
When I’m without the talent of a gnat
Is there anything that I can do well
When all that I attempt comes out mundane?
Art and drawing that’s average at best
Poems and songs that make folk writhe in pain
Writing too poor to withstand any test
But I’m tired and I’m old and without hope
And at the end of a very short rope
You describe it well in verse.
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