Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
The urban sprawl of Los Angeles,
spread like butter on the toast of the plain,
makes me think of my bodily manganese,
found in liver and kidneys and brain,
and as life begins in humility,
a speck through many trials it has won,
but spawning more growth in futility,
like this poem, it goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.
Line count: 8
Rhymed abab
For Express It In Eight, 12.28.22
Prompt: Write a sprawling poem.
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