Flirting With Free Verse

Formal forms feel nice and safe But meter makes me sweat Sometimes rhymes will grind and chafe And stresses makes me fret Perhaps there is another way? I need to be diverse Panzer stanzas made of clay? Or flirt with loose free verse ... To write without rules? Freedom! The shackles of rhyme snap open And clatter to the floor The ball and chain of meter and rhythm Slip off and roll away Through the septic puddle of conformity Clunks against the cell wall The solid steel door unbolts - one - two - three And squeals open Rust flakes bursting then falling Metallic leaves onto a metallic forest floor A breeze washes in - washes away the stale air A poster of Dr Seuss lifts, then flaps, then rips Then blows away Daylight streams in - bright - white - blinding - searing As fragile eyes adjust, the outside free-i-verse reveals itself Freedom? Yes. But what chaos! Repetition, imagery, metaphors and repetition - still there And rhyme and meter! Where should they go? What if I get it wrong? How will I know? I can't take it in! ... The door swings and closes - safe and secure The chill draft now whispers - certain and sure The shackles await me - to hold and embrace The ball and chain staring - a well meaning face Perhaps structure and form aren't really so bad Free verse is trendy, or maybe a fad From now on I'll stick to what I surely know Rhythm and meter and rhyme true to flow Or maybe I'll try again tomorrow... (Entry for the "flirt" contest)