Is she the damsel from fantasy books?
The one who heroic hearts arc towards?
Indeed, of faerie eye and fair-lined looks
What cold savior could she be waiting for?
Some faux hero made of dreams, just like her-
From realms of common beauty and the wiles
of class-bred temper; Parted from less learned
Folk like me whom their countenance beguiles-
Although, it seems that all our breaking dreams
In this reality reforge themselves;
Imbued now with the pain of shattered hearts,
We move forward with new convictions held.
To wit; It's not that fucking hip and cool
To play the guy who likes you like a fool
2 comments:
Hey, when we were doing the formal poetry, how many stanzas was the poem supposed to have?
Depends on the type of formal formula you're using. This is a sonnet, so it follows that rhythm and meter.
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