Psuedo-sonnet (4/27)

Yes, I know this is late…. Anyways, I’ve been working on this sonnet for a while now, and it’s not going particularly well. Also, I gave up on the iambic-ness a while ago….

There is a point in night when all time seems to halt.

Everything seems so still, but the earth still spins

sun still rises, welcomed with scrambled eggs and salt.

(Salt with scrambled eggs to be further from a sin.)

Breakfast seems random and is almost wrong to me

Almost as wrong as that sun rising in the sky

However beautiful it may be to see

sleep deprived me lets it pass with only a sigh.

Mind shut down long ago; coffee is not a cure.

….

and so, that’s all I got so far….

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2 Responses to Psuedo-sonnet (4/27)

  1. porteram says:

    Very nice, Kasey Jo. Although I’m not sure what’s so wrong about breakfast.

    • kaseyjosander says:

      There is nothing wrong with breakfast in general, however, after staying up for 25 hours, it does seem wrong

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