Must it always rhyme, must it fit like a dime,
The single red points that multiply my two sense by five,
Will the meter bounce poetically, or will it fall flat on its face?
Given the time of a life, my strife can run a steady pace.
The sounds of symmetry, the lines of four,
Are they really required to stay in step?
Is a constant rhythm actually adored?
Must there always be a proposition squeezed between the lines,
Or a preposition linking a subject to another’s recent find?
Is it actually required to have some purpose in mind?