On the way home from Nationals, Andrew and I had some really interesting conversations about poetry. I even got to look on as Andrew wrote a sonnet on the ride home. This really inspired me to give metered poetry a try. With help from Andrew, this is my first attempt.


I see through eyes of tainted kind,
The truth, the world, my trite, my whole.
Assured of things I've not divined,
My heart is that which lies console.
Within my pride, I try to think,
That I am right within my wrongs.
My hollow faith begins to sink,
Too far away from hallowed throngs.
I stand alone without a choice.
My lies, my vice hath brought me here.
I hope and wait to hear a voice
Of One I know, Who stills my fear.
And now my soul, it doth so pine,
To now behold that glorious sign.