Iambic Smash: If you would put the key inside the lock
Hello, my friend. What are you doing here?
I see the wrinkles in your suntanned brow.
Excess in drinking could be bad for you.
Of man’s first disobedience, and the fruit
of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
’tis not so sweet now as it was before.
I see the wings of eagles flying by.
It crossed the gloaming skies above the roofs.
You watched the aging people gently rock.
I saw you yesterday, your features grinned.
So tell me, what is life if not for this?
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
Now is the winter of our discontent.
This myth reflected what would happen if
the rain began with striking thunder noise.