In poems there is meter and rhyme,
That’s what teachers say all the time,
A beat to keep, like a pounding drum,
A thesaurus work to drive one to rum
With tricks of mind and clever little twists
One weaves words into strange little mists
Some so smooth off the tongue
they tend to make the bees hum
Others in so Gilbert and Sullivan they say
nothing in high standing comedic ways
Some write to fall to others dreaming call
To drift away in dreams soft sway far and all
A loss to self, in rhyming curse
To write what is in them the worst
Of addled dreams, fever minds tossed
And leave the reader at cross roads losted
But the poetry of the mind
Defies the meter, destroys the rhyme
And teachers best lesions are learned
So self incrimination's are earned…
Written by John Fried
Posted on 02/25/13
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