POETRY BY THE RULES

Poetry by the Rules Flowery scent of wafting jasmine The wanton vampire that I let in He bid my passion I let him stay But he gnarled upon my wooden leg It’s such a bore his same old story About poetry in it’s former glory Where everything rhymes in perfect meter But I’m certain he’s off by a centimeter Fuck the story it’s all about rhyme Evil verses good, beer verses wine Who cares if you all have heard it before? The same old stories becoming abore She follows him down now, in rigid pursuit and what she has written she hasn’t a clue Don’t try to stray from within this space if you do do, you mayend up with egg on your face Her arthritic hands still grasp the pen As she tries like hell to begin again She hates to think what’s become of the time just a whorefor incessant rules ofrhyme But what will you do about the content? Who cares as long as the rhymes being met? As the candle burns down To the end of the wick She prays for her savior She prays for one quick Knock knock pray tell, now who is there? I don’t give a shit and I really don’t care. Roses are Red and violets are Blue You may follow the rules but they aren’t absolute! WordPlaya March 23, 2010