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Domestic Sonnet

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I do not think I’m wanted anymore.
The clock keeps ticking sounding my close end.
Oh look! Again, he’s grabbed another beer.
This is not something I can easily mend

The night has come. His punch has bruised my mouth
My screams do nothing. He does not stop for me.
He hits continuous and heading south
It hurts. Each night’s the same despite my plea

This violence will not stop. He’s started kicks.
Old love gone from him surely. Pain is left.
This pain he casts on me. I’m thrown to bricks.
Against the wall, my heart's still prone to theft

What’s this? He starts to slow his vicious blows.
A deadly overdose; he sunk so low

Before we were told to write a romance poem to turn into sonnets. He was hoping someone would write a tragedy love poem, but no one did so that was a token "good job". For sonnets, instead of the previous romance, we were to write...a new sonnet. 12 lines of tragedy and 2 lines to fix it. iambic pentameters.

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Updated 12-09-2013 at 12:59 PM by Missy




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