Slave, or: Master

My first Terza Rima

I'm well aware- I do not have a special way with words.
Rather, it seems, words often tend to have their way with me.
For instance, I've been crushed by a very large verb herd!

Ridiculous? I wonder too! Who on earth set them free?
Perhaps it was those rascally lowlife nouns once again.
They're always mocking, bullying me with such vicious glee!

Though cunning adjectives will wait until I lift my pen,
Their accomplice adverbs don't maintain similar patience,
Barely restraining themselves even to the count of ten!

I've cried when prepositions say I make no godly sense,
And directly, sometimes indirectly, articles are crass.
Clearly, they aim to wound me with their very worst offense.

Alas, these many parts of speech gang up on me en masse.
I still shudder to share the very worst of it with you-
Never will I forget the day that numeral grabbed my ass!

Interjections and determiners oft push their points of view;
In short, I have no say at all. They've got me quite subdued.

d’Verse is taking a break for the holidays so there won’t be any prompts for a while…

So I’ll be trying out a few new forms with prompts born of my mind instead!

I considered the idea of responding to prompts from other groups, but d’Verse satisfies my creative curiosity more than well enough – and I don’t want to spend all of my time responding to poetry prompts.

33 thoughts on “Slave, or: Master”

  1. That’s wonderful mastery over your words David, you have made them play to your tune, or rhyme 👏 they couldn’t subdue or plot against you 😀

    Parts of speech has ganged up and troubled me from early school life, I thoroughly enjoyed how you orchestrated this act out of this gang of cunning Rascals 😀

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