The Kings broke my will to live in a tragedy befitting of Shakespeare, so instead of recapping I wrote a sonnet.
Fie unto the Kings. Woeful! Thou art shunn’d!
Up big, the Dukes of Hazard bringeth smile,
Backward passes, dunks galore, endless fun.
Halftime arrives, the Kings leadeth by miles.
Three quarters in, the Kings look mighty fine,
The Nets hear this, the lead it doth decline,
And by quarter four the Kings disavow.
D’Angelo, dumbly shunn’d by Lakers.
Thy regicidal play doth give eyes tears,
Thy jumper bringeth curses from quakers,
Thine drives bring midnight tremors many fears,
Woe, fallen Kings!