It's a sestina...if you don't know what one is check
this out.
As I lay out
My hands turned yellow,
Shaking violently
Like the words I signed
To a sheet of paper
I couldn't read.
The clock I couldn't read
Because my mind was out.
Before words on paper
Were romantic but soon were yellowed.
It was a sign
To treat myself less violently.
The walls around me shook violently,
And the corners of my eyes were red.
There wasn't much I had signed
Away, or so I had thought out.
Now the sun through the window is yellow,
And the branches have leaves resembling paper.
I once put our names on paper.
The doodles written violently
In an old notebook, turned yellow
Now, with notes hard to read
And words hard to make out.
But now it wasn't to what I was assigned.
I had written my life away and resigned
Because I couldn't remember that paper.
And I wanted to be put out
Of my misery less violently
Then I had imagined I had read
Because I am yellow.
There is nothing more yellow
Then the day I signed
My name away unread,
The words scrawling across paper
And put out so violently
Because I wanted to be without.
I put out the color of yellow
From my paper body violently.
It was something I signed but never read.
this out.
As I lay out
My hands turned yellow,
Shaking violently
Like the words I signed
To a sheet of paper
I couldn't read.
The clock I couldn't read
Because my mind was out.
Before words on paper
Were romantic but soon were yellowed.
It was a sign
To treat myself less violently.
The walls around me shook violently,
And the corners of my eyes were red.
There wasn't much I had signed
Away, or so I had thought out.
Now the sun through the window is yellow,
And the branches have leaves resembling paper.
I once put our names on paper.
The doodles written violently
In an old notebook, turned yellow
Now, with notes hard to read
And words hard to make out.
But now it wasn't to what I was assigned.
I had written my life away and resigned
Because I couldn't remember that paper.
And I wanted to be put out
Of my misery less violently
Then I had imagined I had read
Because I am yellow.
There is nothing more yellow
Then the day I signed
My name away unread,
The words scrawling across paper
And put out so violently
Because I wanted to be without.
I put out the color of yellow
From my paper body violently.
It was something I signed but never read.
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christ, that's a tough form. i sweat blood over sonnets.