Why won't it just come out
as easy as it used to?
As easy as it did
before they told me how to write?
Caging my emotions in things,
things called meter, things called rhyme.
Filling my head with other concerns.
"A poem is not a poem," she screams
in her so-quiet voice,
"unless it has rhymes I can analyze!"
Is that all a poem is?
A poem is the soul's cry
Its scream in the night,
its sigh of despair,
its celebration of joy,
A poem is not mere words.
A poem is an emotion,
Emotion caged.
Cat
Bat
Rat
Mat
There! there is your poem,
I scream as I shove
This hateful blasephemy into her face.
Analyze that!
The creature takes the poem
and drifts into her lair
to hungrily analyze what I mean.
I laugh. She has been defeated!
I am free! Back to my poetry page Back to my writing page Back to my main page.
rhlannon@hotmail.com
