Sonnet Seven
Haiku cause wars, the words of which outlast
the single stanza that caused such debate
between self-professing master of the past
and younger writers making them irate.
The younger crowd are picked up by the ears,
drag their bodies out to open land
and cherry blossoms, sentenced to years
to write haiku for them time and time again.
A haiku is a single patch of land
that can't sustain a life for very long.
Some poets irked with elderly command
turn sonnets, sestinas, never branded wrong.
Where are the old master's angry calls
about longer forms? Perhaps they lack the balls.
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