Rowe Weiss Poet Ballad

No Rhyme, Just Reasons

There are no rhymes here.
 Only reasons.
 Each breath carries one.
 Each step carries another.
 No patterns, only purpose.
Reasons live in the spaces between words.
 They hide in silence.
 They are carried in the weight of stillness.
 They arrive without announcement.
 They leave without regret.
No rhythm but the one we carry.
 No rhyme but the truth we hold.

Reasons are not found in matching sounds.
 They live in moments of clarity.
 They are carried in silence, in breath, in movement.
 Each reason is its own truth.
Reasons ask questions without answers.
 They are the reasons we stay awake at night.
 They are the reasons we breathe when there is no need.
 They are the still point in a restless world.
No rhyme to guide them.
 Only the weight of being

No rhyme.
 Just reasons.
 No answer.
 Only why.
 No ending.
 Only unfolding.

This is my poem.
 You might say it does not rhyme.
 And yes — it doesn’t.
It was never meant to.
 It is only reasons.
 Reasons to breathe.
 Reasons to move.
 Reasons to simply be.
No rhyme.
 Just reasons

Walk without a song.
 Speak without a verse.
 Live without a pattern.
 Hold onto reasons.
 They are enough.
Reasons do not demand proof.
 They demand presence.
 They ask only to be recognized.


This is my poem.
 You might say it does not rhyme.
 And yes — it doesn’t.
 It is only reasons.
Only reasons to breathe.
 Only reasons to move.
 Only reasons to simply be.
No rhyme.
 Just reasons.
No rhyme.
 Just reasons.
No rhyme.
 Just reasons.

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