[Not] a Sonnet
Really. Really now.
For class, we had to write sonnets, so my Hetalia muse decided to backhand my head and take charge. I wanted to write it Italian sonnet style, since it pertains to Italy, but I couldn't rhyme anything - therefore, it is [not] an Italian sonnet.
I found you at the bottom of a tomato crate
You were hiding from the rest of the world.
Little did I know finding you was my fate
Your eyes, your face, in my heart you curled
And I took you in; you raised your white flag
You never stayed; you wandered away.
(But you needed my help, you useless nag
Until all I could hear was my name you would say.)
Sometimes I don’t know how you think
Your affection seems so foreign to me.
But I’ll try to float and not sink
And return your love to the best of my ability.
Because, after all, you’re you; you’re Italy.
And what can I do; all I am is Germany.