For alerting us that April is poetry month.
| I am, of course, none other than blank verse. I don't know where I'm going, yes, quite right; And when I get there (if I ever do) I might not recognise it. So? Your point? Why should I have a destination set? I'm relatively happy as I am, And wouldn't want to be forever aimed Towards some future path or special goal. It's not to do with laziness, as such. It's just that one the whole I'd rather not Be bothered - so I drift contentedly; An underrated way of life, I find. |
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Although this really isn't entirely me
it captures my relaxed and wandering pace
at getting from point A to B in life.
It should not (will not) come to be a chore
if i can stay spontaneous a bit.
I can't be bothered planning life too much--
it's true, but nonetheless I have a goal.
I'll reach my dreams eventually, you'll see.
It's gradual but still it shall unfold.
it captures my relaxed and wandering pace
at getting from point A to B in life.
It should not (will not) come to be a chore
if i can stay spontaneous a bit.
I can't be bothered planning life too much--
it's true, but nonetheless I have a goal.
I'll reach my dreams eventually, you'll see.
It's gradual but still it shall unfold.
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Blank verse may not rhyme but it's often written in our old friend
iambic pentameter. So in its (and my) defense, there is
rhythm and movement and purpose. Just can't be bothered
fitting it all into a carefully plotted rhyme scheme. :)
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