TH SMRT GAIM (Read first post.)

[Keaton]

Sorry to some of you, but this does require some real intelligence to play.  I'm trying to think up the rules on the spot, so just roll with me.

Ah-ha!  This is a sonnet game!

The first poster will think up a quatrain to post-- in Iambic Pentameter, of course. The second person posts the second quatrain, and the third person posts the last quatrain, and the last person posts the couplet.  It has to make sense with the rest of the sonnet, however.

Don't know what any of these terms mean?  Don't play, and you should look them up.  Otherwise, you won't get far in High School.

I'll start:

What sad and lonely harvest must we reap
to keep our families' freedoms e'er intact?
We toil around the clock all just to keep
the story of our lives from Final Act.

Let's try to actually keep the silliness at a minimum, m'kay?

[DW]

And yet so weak our will may sometimes be,
how quickly we may our purpose forsake.
The heart of man corrupts so easily,
as foul toxins quickly pollute the lake.

[Keaton]

Yet thusly do the just get their reprieve,
as kindness doth to fruition come full...
the love of man, as some come to believe,
can mend the wounds of others right and whole.

[Carpet Merchant]

The hand that harms may also heal
Only true demons can not feel.

[DW]

YES! Somebody besides me and Tacheon knows how to write poetry!

...

So now that the sonnet's made, do we just start another one?

[Keaton]

...yes.

You go ahead, Shika.

[Carpet Merchant]

Sorry, did you want a heroic couplet? I kinda strayed from the iambic pentameter. Anyway...

Death grins at each of us in our own turn
His gaze sweeping away our delusion
The only thing left for mortals to learn
Is the date of his sudden intrusion.