Fibonacci Poetry

I
just
cannot
go on with
these constant dark days
of grotesquely perfect weather.
Every day is yet another beautiful day
and I find the bare sun to be an awful blight on once sweetly gray and empty skies.

I took this idea a few steps further to the 21 syllable range. Soon I will be trying my hand at a 34, a 55, and maybe even 89 syllable line poem.

Maybe.