Here is a draft of a sonnet I have been writing in my English class. It was inspired by Edwin Arlington Robinson's poems "Richard Cory" and "Miniver Cheevy." It isn't finished, so I will be posting the completed version later.
His home bedecked with velvet red,
With cherry oak adorning every wall,
He sups each morn on warm French bread,
And ends each day with choice filet mignon.
When in the mood, he scratches out
A screeching tune upon his violin;
His neighbors cower from the spout.
Few people visit, lending looks of stone.
Yet in his shadow lives a smith,
Whose only tune is that of ringing steel.
An empty table is no myth;
His ancient, barren walls are aching-prone.
But when considered on a different scope,
His life is full of happiness and hope!