The problem with poetry

Is there are too many rules

A sonnet is this way

You learn a haiku in school

 

There’s the ode and Epistle

The tanka, the bop

Seriously these people have got to be stopped

 

A sestina should be massacred

A Villanelle should be vilified

A  poem should be wonder

The student runs away terrified

I know I’m  just ranting

Poetry must have a form

But I am sounding the charge

Wailing the alarm

A poem should have rhythm

Just the right sound

But do we really need quintains

Roundels make me frown

No give me free verse

With nary a form

I’ll write you my best

Don’t make me conform