Joe

[billy]

with a bit of work it could be a good sonnet. the right number of lines , the meter would need working on as would the end rhymes you have. at present it read as though you stuck one or two words at the end of a line to make the rhyme. you also have far to many cliches a couple you can get away with if you can make them seamless. the poem needs some editing, a lot of editing but paradoxically it's almost there.

[color=blue]A student of mine, named Joe, asked me recently, “Why do we forget the simple joy of being alive”?  This courageous lady had survived a major accident and was happy just to be alive. It got me thinking. Joe
First, travel far all day. Winter. Cold..
Then turn the corner. Find the bay. all ok.
It’s mostly mortar, bricks and water. Old.
Now night brings shadows, mist and fog; white bay.

Hotel is fine. eat bread; Soft bed. feel good
Protected cave. A starry night; asleep.
Full Moon; a storm blows, river flows: loud wood.
A ray of light. So, drink in day; Awake.

A rolling stone. Content. Yet, short is life,
And time goes. Flash in pan, is all I am.
A humbling thought. So, pause; feel joy; alive.
So precious. Lose so easy. Distractions. Spam.

An honour. Able to see, all nature’s forms.
Then travel far. Lose the bay. Humble. Warm..