As fate would have it they handed me a Sonnet

Not at all what I might like to do

But at least this way I get to choose each and every one of my words oh so carefully, sidestep any kind of an embarrassment, God awful slew

With words

An absurdly atrocious fixation – obsession – when it comes to creating no more, no less than what I pray most of you will deem an overnight literary sensation – rare albeit typified diction

For all and sundry

Rules, they may not be so bad, perhaps an all to necessary tool of the trade

Shakespeare and the Elizabethan era, to this very day Sonnets which still remain something of a crazy fad – historic relics unwilling to fade

This modern day poet too used to going against the absolute grain, letting those mind-boggling words rain on down upon him

But the truth of the matter is this, owing to a brand new page, brand new task placed in my hand, I do seem to find myself feeling surprisingly relaxed

I would almost go as far as to say even as much as teetering on the brink of relieved, glad

So go with that flow, don’t be afraid to show them what you can do

The ‘real’ poets – the ones who always believed that they just knew best
Cards no longer pressed against my fickle chest

Write for myself, turns out in the end I’m the only one who I really need to impress