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Flee from youthful lust
Except my youth is dust
Gone with lifted bust
like stale bread without its crust
Crusty joints grind to rust
Unsteady from a tiny gust
My complaint I think is just
The warning signs you need to trust
So what I mean, and here's the cusp
Youth is a place we must distrust
If you think of aging in disgust
Time will thrust, and you will adjust
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a monorhyme and have fun :)
A Monorhyme is a poem in which all the lines have the same end rhyme.
Example #1:
Late for Class
I realized it was half past four
When I, quite late, ran out the door.
My history class I so abhor,
But I missed two sessions the week before.
I failed a test on ancient lore
And forgot the date of the Second World War.
(Man, my brain was really sore.)
Up the marble stairs I tore,
And slid across a just-mopped floor:
I banged my knee and loudly swore,
To wake -again- at half past four!
These nightmares I can stand no more...
Copyright © 2001 Dendrobia
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Author Notes
Thank you, Liilia, for your picture, "Old Woman of Sumatra."
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