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A poem in Nove Otto form: 9 lines, 8 syllables per line, rhyme scheme aacbbcddc. |
| Sweat-soaked shirt, sweat dripping from brow. Aching back. Should have bought a plow. Gardening has become a chore. It seemed romantic long ago, Lovely flowers and food to grow. These days I wonder, what's it for? Weeds are winning, taking over. Fewer daisies, much more clover. I've had enough. That's it. No more. |