Monday, December 16, 2013

I Forgot 97 so THIS is the real 100th Sonnet

Number 100 The Last Sonnet

Sonnet one hundred is eluding me
I’d like to end the whole thing with a bang
I never found the rhythm or the key
My lady doth confess they never sang
Will did have his mystery dark lady
But aging broads are dismissed as stalkers
Regarded more as Sad Sack than Miss Sadie
Unsexed by their medicine and walkers
Still, there are proud moments to remember
And gave to me respect for poet’s muse
Apt it is to end it in December
And while we still can do it without booze
And thus I end my farting with this biz
The final sonnet and Whoot! Here it is!