Poetry Form: Gwawdodn

We lie in circles of broken glass,
brown shards that bruise souls as people pass,
curled into balls to gather heat, to live
in fragile defeat of social class.

We’ve chosen our fate like peeling paint,
stripped in pieces and left with constraint,
become with origins or prospects,
simply grey wasteland with no complaint.

Overgrown by ivy and bindweed
beer bottles become grass seed by seed,
overcome we are failed, taken away
bodies do darken as you succeed.


Form: Gwawdodn 

Number of Lines: Minimum 4 lines, Maximum is poet’s choice in 

A stanza of four lines. Lines 1,2 and 4 are nine syllables long and share the same rhyme. 
Line 3 is 10 syllables long and has an internal rhyme scheme similar to a Toddaid.

x x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x b x x
x x x x b x x x a

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