A Note to a Critic
Is it your wish to see
Feelings flow in fluid motion,
Like the river
Restricted by banks and walls
And harnessed for greedy purposes?
Or, like raindrops dripping
On a window to a steady beat,
Falling to the mossy concrete ground
And turning to mud as they are tainted?
Or perhaps controlled like an actor’s tears,
Mere aesthetics for your enjoyment
And lacking substance like mist in the headlights?
Why should expression be reined in,
Subjected to your suspect licence
So that you can take pleasure from the
Ornate niceties of lovely lyrics?
The message is more important,
That is the long and that is the short of it,
Not to be limited by the length of lines
To please a casual merchant of rhymes.
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