The Sestina is another specific form of poetry. 39 lines, 6 sets of 6 and then a 3 line ending. You have to keep the end words the same, but they alternate lines. And you can't rhyme. It's really freaking lame, and I'm not a big fan, as you could probably gather from the title.
So we're supposed to write a sestina,
It is strict in adherence to form.
Contrary to my nature, I can't even rhyme.
And what good is a poem without that?
Six lines of six, with a final three,
Thirty nine lines is a lot to fill.
Back along route 55 is a landfill
There's a whale there, would he like a sestina?
In verse two, this is line number three.
To me, this doesn't breathe. A dead, lifeless form.
For a metaphor, how was that?
Have I mentioned how hard it is not to rhyme?
This poem has no reason or rhyme,
Just words that do nothing but fill.
Writer's block, can you believe that?
To be honest, I blame the sestina.
Stick to they rules, I cannot shape its form.
This here is the end of the stanza called three.
This is verse four, it comes after three,
I can be numeric, but nary a rhyme.
The other day I had to fill out a form,
And it was a form that I had to fill.
Repetition is good in a sestina.
I think I've picked up on that.
Now how will I ever top that?
I've no more clever uses for three.
Here's another line with sestina.
I'd really like to know why we can't rhyme,
Since, to me, that's a lame requirement to fill.
The Wonder Twins could change by shouting "Form!"
No one will get that reference to form.
The SuperFriends? Anyone remember that?
Reese's cups have delicious peanut butter fill.
Did you know they come in packs of three?
Once again, I lament the lack of rhyme.
Bringing to a close, this pitiful sestina.
I hate the sestina, and its horrible form.
I like to rhyme, I've definitely said that.
Thirteen times three, is the lines I did fill.