My fingers
are riddled in times new roman ink
All these
French words nouns and verbs make my stomach sink
Why did
it happen, how can this possibly be?
The cogs
of the clock turned too quickly for me.
Here I
write in stress with thoughts free from chains unbound
A pen
in mouth paired with keyboard clicking sound
With thesis
direction and many pages more
The analysis flows of the Arthurian lore.
Lancelot
and Gwen their secret love has bloomed
Though the
tale is fine Camelot is doomed
The knight
of the cart is heroic in love and woo
But strong
loyalty to the Queen makes him untrue.
Despite
your weakness Lancelot the said fair knight
I wrote
of your growth through quests struggle and fight
Becoming
a man of the blade with a strong heart
Fearing
nothing not even disgrace of the cart.
I digress
and continue my battle with Word
Even
with strain the finish line is assured.
For only
revision does remain to adhere
Tonight
some fun at the house of Magic Mirror.
Ok so the basic gist is the process I endured while writing a French essay about how Lancelot, yes that Lancelot, becomes a true knight through various challenges while trying to save Guinevere, Gwen for short. Magic Mirrors, I chopped of the "s" for rhyming purposes, is a dance hall that was hosting a party for the international students of Le Havre that night. Thus the poem ends with me leaving for Magic Mirrors after finishing my essay. Tis all audience.
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