Where are the meter writers hiding at?
just hit me with a poem in iambic...

Death,
i see you in the corners of my life...

I want to sing,
oh love...

stress me, stress me, stress me
stress why I should be stressed...

river, river
flowing down...

Oh sweet heart
I can feel your ache...

a melón, sweet
delicious as it is...

Some days I’m fine just like a well
enjoying nature I must tell...

Hey,
I’m tire...

Oh Ben, where are you now?
I search for you within this site...

slipping
slipping...

Stress
please quit stressing me up...