The dreaded ghazal. My first attempt, completely unlike the product below, was very high-school and makes me cringe to think that I actually sent it to my tutor for feedback. Still, it's not a real ghazal, although what is a real ghazal? Apparently you can only change poetic structure if you're already famous, which I'm obviously not. I quite like this one - even if stanzas two and five refer to the same kind of heart. Again, admittedly, the minimum requirement made me force out a fifth stanza when I only had four that I was ready to submit. At least they're not so bad that I'm not going to publish them on this blog.
Nature, nurture, wicked hearts?
From everything comes wicked hearts.
No repentance; toss and turn
with red-stained hands and wicked hearts.
Beating sun on green gold rows
leaves grainy flesh ‘round wicked hearts.
Rush to head and coin to slot;
diamond hope on wicked hearts.
Deceitful you! And my faux-heroes;
Even saints have wicked hearts.
Is faux not a real word? The spell check said no. (Computer says no.)
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