(not for the faint of heart)

It started out a normal day,

One where I rhymed the time away,

I polished off a masterpiece,

I thought of it as quite a feat.

In record time, I sent it off,

But it was mocked and promptly scoffed,

My editor, most dark and grim,

Demanded why I’d sent this in,

“Now Rorie”, he, in firmest tone

Said with an air of chiseled stone,

“Rhyme is archaic, it’s passé,

And you must heed all that I say.”

While he paused, I clutched my throat,

And made myself a mental note,

To never heed his free verse words,

To give up rhyme would be absurd!

“You must expand your poet’s world,

Sing song is just for little girls,”

His veins, they bulged, his tone was terse:

“Give up your rhymes, embrace free verse!”

”No, never!” I with passion cried,

And vowed his words would be defied,

I asked him if he knew the skill,

(By now my tone was high and shrill)

To keep a perfect rhyming scheme,

That those who did should be esteemed.

I haughtily drew up my height,

And said, “I’ll not give up the fight,

One night, though late, I’ll have you know,

I found a rhyme for Doritos!”

I thought I’d put his plan at bay,

But this is what he had to say:

“Now, Rorie, see, this is absurd,

You cheat to rhyme, you invert verbs

How can’t you see that rhymes must cease?

Write me another, rhymeless piece.”

I pleaded, but to no avail,

My arguments had flopped and failed,

Resignedly, just as he asked,

I undertook the joyless task,

With tears of sorrow, pain, and hurt,

I wrote a free verse piece of dirt,

And maybe I exaggerate,

But I can’t see a rhymeless fate,

So even if it’s just for me,

I still will rhyme my poetry.

- Aurora Antonovic

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