Sonnet XCIX

Too short to make an epic narrative,
elaborate exploration of a thought,
compelling arguments by answers taught,
or area to make superlatives.

Too long to make a clear, concise account,
a stunning riddle gruelling through and through,
simplicity of form with artsy truth,
or lovely quatrains in sweet beauty drowned.

Too formal for a ghastly prank or joke,
Too structured for a fix, reform, or change,
Too happy for depressing, dark disdain,
Too serious for carefree choice like prose.

What can a poet say in fourteen lines?
Depends, but hopefully I’ve said a lot.