My Problem With Rhyme

In poetry I’ve always been defined
By an unwillingness to rhyme
On a dime

One can’t help but think that it feels forced
As though one were writing in Morse
Code. Because that’s logical, of course.

And when you have something you feel a need to say
I could talk about what it does to rhythm all day
Until my train of thought is derailed by something “this way”

And of course one’s attention is drawn to the word that’s going to
Stand at the end of the line
Grand, and towering over all that came before

This may just be me
But the imagery
Is the first thing to fall, and be lost, with the majority of writers of course

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