Some verse parody of a famous sonnet by Wordsworth, and a little of what passes for fan-art with me.

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My Life Has Grown Too Wired

My life has grown too wired; playing roles,
Staged and scripted, told what to feel;
Little enough is left of me that's real;
I have given my heart away, and lost my soul.
The river winding toward the bay below
Contends against a flooding tide that steals
Its strength in rising seas - and then it wheels,
And drains the current with the ebbing flow.
That's how I feel - O friends! Could I once more
Have just a little time to live and breathe,
To find, within this idol's shell, some trace
Of my true self, of what I was before,
Perhaps I would no longer have to grieve,
But gain instead some little bit of grace.

The World Is Too Much With Us
William Wordsworth

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

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