Day 8: Optimism

A little late but finished nonetheless, the prompt for day 8 was to write an ottava rima which is an eight-line stanza of iambic pentameter, with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-a-b-c-c.


Amidst the winding road, encased in mud,
there lies a broken branch along the side.
When all the clouds above let loose a flood,
no hint of happiness is there, nor pride.
Though seasons part and trees begin to spud,
it sits, the pain unwilling to subside.
But still the moss grows o’er the rotting bark,
she’s found her home and comfort in the dark.


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