I find no need for the slant.
The ones on the end -- they bother me the most.
I guess I can tolerate the internal.
I can't even begin to fathom the rich.
Identicals... can you even call yourself one?
I guess I'm not quite damaged by the eye ones.
I suppose you could say I outgrew that childish phase.
Anyone can make a rhyme,
boys and girls, it happens all the time.
Are you trying to force some poetic muse?
Because your use of the English language has some serious abuse.
Someone who needs rhymes is not a true poet,
and you damn well know it.
How many words do you know to rhyme with colors?
Feelings of depression and loneliness?
What third grade class room did you swipe your dictionary from?
Do they even have words for your cheap erotica poesy?
Oh, I understand your little rhymes.
Their breeds, their families, their lineage.
I know your tools better than you,
but I've outgrown that petty phase.
The slants are only slightly below par,
if you can make it work, you have a special place in my heart.
But those who put them at the end
come from a place in hell I have yet to comprehend.
Rhyme inside line, the internal, almost comes off as slightly maternal
If a rich rhyme is what you raise,
expect to return to your house under raze.
Something about the identical rhyme
doesn't really seem like a rhyme.
If you really must try for one of these rhymes, though,
go for the eyes, they aren't so rough.