Art is in the Exceptions

As a grammarian
I choose to abide
By rules written by people
No longer alive

But why?
If art is to be living
Then why should I believe in
Those who solved it so long ago?

Do I really think they got it right?
Maybe art is only vigorous
Because of those who synthesize
And keep adding rules,
Even if they contradict the old.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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