I'M Sorry, Billy Shakespeare

I despise sonnets, and they despise me. So obnoxious with their fourteen line rhymes. I’d rather be attacked by a banshee Than be subjected to my mind’s rhyme-crimes. Fingers tapping to the ten syllables. Dead to the iambic pentameter. Now I’m praying for the running of bulls. A better poet would make my freezer. o, I know Shakespeare would be so ashamed To read the words that lay upon this page. They do not stand to the man they are named. A Shakespearean sonnet on rampage. I know the man himself would not agree, But thank God for rhyming dictionary.