Verse 1
Verse 2
Stanza.
Whatever it is,
It makes what this is,
A poem.
An ironic poem.
Why?
Because it's about what it is.
Your thoughts bubble up and spew out,
Making this literary piece.
There's no rule to poetry,
No right and wrong.
Just write, in your own way.
It's your stage, it's your testimony.
Either metaphorical or literal,
A poem is simply what you make it.
It flows like the wind,
It's as cacophonous as a crowd.
It's easy,
It's hard.
A poem is undefinable and has no standards.
Poetry is a form of freedom.
