Sonnet Woes



I once was told to craft a sonnet, weak!
I did not care to waste my time on it
And when I thought that things were looking bleak
I thrust my pencil down and bent to spit
I tried and tried and tried so hard to write
But nothing from my pencil good would flow
In discontent I cried about my plight
My soul lamented at impending woe
I must propose this Petrarch’s clearly mad
by forging format hard to understand
I must confess it truly makes me sad
The structure forces me to write it bland

And while I sit and ponder where to end
I think I must to publishers this send