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Note: To view the final poem refer to my poem 'We Are So Drawn...'

Here's my work product for this sad, strange poem that I've just completed. I 
include the syllable and rhyme scheme notation I used to write this as a 
teaching device for you. Note that after writing the first stanza I honor the 
output of the muse by making the gift of his skeleton the core of the poem. At 
first I matched only syllables to write the 2nd stanza. that completed, then I 
looked for ways to make it all rhyme. After the 2nd stanza the rhyme scheme 
was then established but the pattern of the 1st 2 stanzas dictated (painfully) 
that the final poem needed to be 4 stanzas long and not 3. Do you see why? 

It was only after completing the 2nd stanza that I realized the poem was 
actually about journalists, how they cover stories, and sensationalize them. 
This happens to me a lot. I have an idea for a poem but don't really know 
where it is heading. So after each stanza I simply asked myself, 'What's next! ' 
In this way my poems sometimes actually seem to write themselves

I should mention that though the keeping the syllable count the same in each 
stanza was my goal, lines that I like writing the last stanza did force me to 
modify lines in all the previous 3 stanzas to match the lines in the 4th stanza 
that I wanted to keep. Originally the last line of each stanza had 8 syllables. 
But because I thought of the last line of the 4th stanza first and wanted to keep 
it, I was forced to make the last line of all the other stanzas 9 syllables lone 
too. The final version is posted now for you to see as well.

There is beauty… 

There is beauty in the wreckage of lives,10 A 
Monuments to lessons learned,7 B 
That will never make sense,6 C 
Some learned the hard way,5 D 
Others as easy as falling on knives,10 A 
Or just fools playing with razors,8E 
Simple child's play with dire consequence.	 9 C 

Of course it's better if you're not the one,10 A1	
Responsibility spurned,7 B 
Though gasping for air	 5 C1 
As night conquers day,5 D 
Wondering, when will the ambulance come? 10 A1 
The Monday morning appraisers	 8E 
Write new bylines pretending they care.	 9 C1 

But then just when you think it's all over	 10 A2 
It's your son or your daughter	 7 B1 
In this morning's headline! 6 C2 
You forgot to pray	 5 D 
And you're no longer rolling in clover.	 10 A2 
The beholder defines beauty	 8 E1 
Brief lives cut again by a deadline.	 9 C2 

10 A3 
7 B1 
6 C3 
5 D 
10 A3 
Keep presses rolling their duty	 8 E1 
That is what it takes to sell papers! 9 C3

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
As you might imagine here, writing the last stanza here with the rhyme 
scheme, syllables, and number of lines predetermined....? Well let's just say it 
was an interesting puzzle for me to work out.

Final touch up: 
1. 'There is beauty in' becomes 'We are drawn to' ('beauty' ironically suggests a 
kind of sick fascination with disaster which is true but perhaps an unkind of the 
word) 
2. 'You forgot to pray' becomes 'You wonder, 'Did I pray? '' which softens the 
judgement of the poet but perhaps not the judgement of the parents on 
themselves.
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