So I was in my creative writing class today and I was just sitting there minding my own business, when my teacher straight up steps on my foot and stood there for like five seconds (which is exaggerated slightly in the poem for iambic reasons) while she was handing back a paper. Straightly after the unusual event, I put it into words.
A few classes later she asked for some random ten-syllable line to start us off on our sonnets. I raised my hand and gave a line. She was like, "Great", and then she asked for another. I gave the next one, and then the next one--I already had the sonnet written after all... Then she addressed the class, "See how simple it is to make things rhyme?" Then a student asked her if these lines given would get an 'A'. Her prompt and final answer: "No".
Regardless, a few days later, I turned this in my sonnet. It was titled:
Of this offense she was quite unaware,
But I wore sandals, much to my dismay
And all the toes upon my foot were bare.
I made strange and agonizing faces
For all the twenty-seven seconds that
she stood on that foot in thoughtless stasis
As if I were an unfeeling doormat.
Then I smiled and mused at the irony
Should the incriminating happenstance
Be put into a form of poetry
so I could seek her grace for recompense
For it was she who upon my foot stood
And judged the first few lines to be not good.
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