on our first day
of our poetry unit
the first thing
my english teacher said
was poems that rhyme
are cheap
and he was right.
sure, they have rhythm
but jesus, it's been done.
it's a bandwagon.
it's amateur.
it's on clearance at the dollar store
you can rhyme your little heart out
but it won't make him leave her.
it won't make your mother stop hitting you
it won't give you sleep
it won't cure your mental illness
it won't fill you with happiness
it won't hide your scars
it won't cover up your flaws
it won't melt away the bad things
it won't cure your mental illness
you can rhyme and you can rhyme till you start seeing planets orbiting around your head
but it won't make a lick of difference
we are the helpless youth
