When the words barely whisper
And the songs known forgotten
When the seldom well wished
And a stone throw’s the bottom
When the once well trodden
Is soiled down and sodden
Accept the well wishes of ones who once wished
And song without a singer like food without dish
And sing those well wishes to your brother on a lake
Stoning throws, hitting water, showing off for the sake
Now that you mention it, my style does sound kinda robotic in this poem. It is mine. I would show some sort of proof, but I’m not exactly sure how I’d do that.
Edit: on second glance I think it sounds robotic because of the way I rhyme. The transitions aren’t smooth in this one and most lines rhyme at some point.