This is my most recent assignment, it was written last night. The poem's assignment was to write an iambic pentameter sonnet. For my sonnet form I chose the Spenserian which for those unaware is an abab bcbc cdcd ee rhyme scheme. For those iambic whores out there I do apologize for any shaky or completely missed iambic feet. It's difficult to make it work 100% of the time. The subject is about being someone's bitch. Morgan is one of my great friends from poetry who is a 50 year old grandmother. She often calls me her bitch and wanted to be immortalized in writing. This is now her immortality. I hope you enjoy as much as she did.
Morgan’s Bitch
The chores you gave without mercy, oh please
I do and give and show without back-talk
I scrub up, down walls, the floor while on my knees
I am now stuck in hell behind this lock
The morning rise to show your forceful look
I did sleep too long, beatings are mine deserved
With leather straps, my skin begins to buck
You spit, you scorn, you tear my life with word
What more is there for me to please, my lord
I’ve done and given piece by piece my years
My seconds, hours, minutes for you to hoard
Empty, none left for you but silent fears
It’s clear; I could escape in a quick pinch
My suicide will make me your dead bitch
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