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Poetry is not dead, here’s an ode to a sonnet.
Oh how I orchestrate grammar.
Compose quatrains and tercets into stanzas.
The rebirth of cool, my scribes are iconic.

Poetry is not dead, here’s an ode to a sonnet.
I pen fourteenth century Italy: exponentially, Petrarch in a manner.
I frame scenes vividly: candidly, no art, no camera.
The rebirth of cool, my scribes are iconic.

If poetry should die, let her die tonight.
If poetry should die, let her tombstone read: abba, abba, cde, cde.
If poetry should die, let us remember her form.

If poetry should die, may she inspire a poet to write.
If poetry should die, let her eulogy read: abba, abba, cde, cde.
If poetry should die, let us deliver a sonnet by dawn.

@StevieStreets ‪#‎codeofthesonnets‬ | Ode to a Sonnet

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