Oh squiggly line in my own eye fluid,

I do indeed perceive your decision

lurking and lingering like a druid

in the periphery of my vision.

But when I attempt to gaze upon you,

you become afraid and scurry away.

“Are you shy?” is my inquiry to chew.

At the hour when I no attention pay,

and my mind to another thought does fly…

I must admit it makes me most distraught

that only then do you come to my eye

and in the very center pop a squat.

I suppose my sadness must needs depart;

Upon you my forgiveness I impart.

Iambic pentameter is the bane

of my very existence on this earth.

Metaphorically it is a great train

taking away the remnants of my mirth.

Going along with the train metaphor

I’ve never been one to “toot my own horn”

but of this simple fact I am quite sure:

With a superior cranium I was born.

And yet I cannot for the life of me

Write a single line in the damn da DUM

Of this obsession I wish to be free

for my attempts to do so leave me numb.

I die inside when I realize I am

Forever to try, and fail, at iamb.

I enjoy composing awful sonnets-

it makes my heart sing magnificent songs…

the only rhyme to use now is “bonnets.”

My heart for the great gift of rhyming longs,

but alas, I don’t possess such a gift

and my word choices become very forced.

Through the rhyming dicitionary I sift;

The thought behind my rhymes becomes outsourced.

But even though it is a worthless plight

It’s as good a use of time as any,

and so I will my silly sonnets write:

The crazy, the varied, ad the many.

I am a Dalek.

You know what’s coming next.

Well: EXTERMINATE!!

The brand spanking new doctor crash landed

taking fish custard from young Amy Pond.

But then he took off and left her stranded

Only childhood fancies maintained their bond.

Together they met beasts, angels, vampires…

they even took her fiance, Rory,

who’s human when situations get dire:

Plastic, but the hero of this story.

The line between what’s a dream and what’s real

blurring, as just like a razor-sharp knife,

the cracks in time and in space made a meal

of Amy’s now cracked and disordered life.

And everything could have turned out quite rotten

If it weren’t true that nothing’s forgotten.