Writing as the old bard would say, complete
It's ten words per line, every other rhymes
Any dilly-dallying is defeat
Get ready for some magnificent times
I waited a decade, and now I'm here
Just writing a Shakespearean sonnet
I might look like such a delicate dear
I'll tell you, there's a hood in my bonnet
These writings, the bard might say, aren't complete
We seek, and say, for sin to make its mark
And my old socks are beginning to reek
As mom used to say, just let those dogs bark
I went so many years and saw the bard
Now ending this for me is getting hard
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