BY DR. AGONSON
No hope, there’s only pain until I die.
This fracture, long ago mended by white
façade, nearly a score of years did lie
complacently, but now it comes to light.
Anon, th’ infected root must be destroyed.
But presently, each pulse precedes inflamed
writhing, every slight touch draws to the void
my desperate soul. It was that I was maimed,
for when to see how fast that I could fly,
harsh gravity dashed me upon the ground.
Thus broke in two, a false half was prescribed,
but it was dead, and so will I be found.
It’s only moments now until the drills,
and I’ll be sleeping as the dentist kills.
This is a great sonnet! Clever and natural both
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Thank you.
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Elegant sonnett, and well expressed, the points raised and supported all! So well written!
Bravo Sheldon, bravo… 🙂
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Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
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Oh I do love the relief in the end… excellent conceit for what the pain really was. There is life after the drill.
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Thank you. (I’m not sure what conceit means in this context.)
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Such a splendid sonnet! 🙂
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Thank you.
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You had me going. There is no anguish to describe that drill!
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I’m still waiting for the appointment. Anbesol until then.
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Nice sound and last two lines.
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Thank you.
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touched a nerve here, brilliant writing!
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Thank you. I’m glad it touched you.
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I would love to sleep while the dentist drills….no luck.
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Thank you for reading.
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