DAY 8 NaPoWriMo : Today’s prompt is write a poem in the English style of an ottava rima which is an eight-line stanza of iambic pentameter. I have attempted two Stanzas.
I sought to drive my sorrows out but they did not wish to go.
They refused point blank to leave me even though I begged them so.
I thought I may be able to drown them in whisky or in gin.
I tried very hard but those blighters had actually learnt to swim.
I wished them goodnight and went up to bed.
Sadly when I tried to sleep they had migrated and were waiting in my head!
I sit and and shake my fists and bury my head in my hands
I really need a rest but my sorrows have other plans .
I run out the house and into the woods.
But the sorrows can out run me and so that is no good.
Stopping and turning as I flee, I see
those damn miserable sorrows are still after me.
I have had enough, if I just sit down,
these sorrows are just screwing me around.
I am afraid awake and terrified asleep,
I fear these sorrow are after my mind for keeps.