After reading Shakespeare sonnets, my freshman English teacher asked us to write one for extra credit. I wrote two.
Both follow the basic sonnet rhyme scheme. Other than that, neither is really all that "Shakespearean".
"Nightmare," by Evan Baughfman, Age 14
It has no real shape. It squirms and screams.
It bellows, wails, twirls, twists, turns, churns, and burns.
Its shapeless mass explodes through my mind’s seams.
What is it? That answer you shall soon learn.
Within it, flaming rain spills from the sky.
Yellowed skulls litter the bloodied, rock ground.
Happy, screeching things, with leather wings, fly.
Hissing beasts and malformed freaks prance around.
Ghouls chase me with knives, axes, and steel hooks.
I trip, I fall, and I can’t get away.
Swarming me, they burn my skin with their looks.
Oh, yes, now I really begin to pray.
Ravaging through my brain, beneath my hair,
Lies that thing! It’s my own twisted nightmare!
"Guess Who," by Evan Baughfman, Age 14
In the black, coal night, it stalks through the woods.
It stops, licking its chops, raising its snout.
It wants blood. To it, entrails have the goods.
Scents rise, fresh and near. A mammal, no doubt.
It lopes, sleek and strong, searching for its prey.
From the nearby brush, bursts a baby deer.
It almost laughs as the fawn sprints away.
The fawn will not escape. Not now, not here.
It chases the fawn onto the county road.
The fawn skips elsewhere, under the full moon.
For a truck hits the thing! Crimson blood flows.
Its skull cracks! Its spine snaps! It will die soon.
The driver had struck a wolf! It's not there!
Instead, there lies a man. Blood mats his hair.