Oh, hell to this poetic symmetry, all hell to rhythms that rhyme.
Death to subtlety, and to those words that rhyme with rhyme.
Not a petal out of place: perfection in your face.
Who tought this bloody flower how to grow in a random space?
Oh no! These words are in a silly rhyme
and we hate symmetry
So I'll sit here and ridicule this flower
for, it'll never be a fully grown tree
Oh hell, rhyme again!
Time to rectify
I'd invited a bit of chaos
it still lingers in a tsunami of sigh
Rhyme again? that's not done
stop crying, it's a silly heartburn
we're hating on symmetry
so hate on, with a heart that's free
stop rhyming! Cuz now it's sounds banal
of course it doesn't, symmetry is eternal
was that a rhyme?
No it wasn't
yes it was!
Now we can fight, without a bloody pause.
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