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Stubborn

My intention is to write some prose
Why it comes out poems, nobody knows
I struggle, wiggle, leave me alone
As I sit happily writing a poem


Words are created and suddenly rhyme
I hardly revise them – I’ve not the time
Give up the idea of writing a book?
I feel I’m caught by a crook and a hook


Following rules as the semester unfolds
Smothers my brain; puts creating on hold
When I find a second that isn’t filled
I’ll write a poem, ‘cause I’m strongly self-willed!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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Date: 4/1/2011 7:16:00 PM
enjoyed your attempt at prose. I have the opposite problem...I have no rhyme in me....only free verse or prose.
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