Free
It’s a verse I’m averse to,
But the walls of Whitman crash
No less strongly than those waves
His pen chiseled in mind.
How can one find meaning  
And
Structure, when the structure itself
Is left behind?
See?

Polysyllabic scheme could hold
Me
But how can I  
Hold
Myself to rules that cannot exist?
Chess with no pieces
Or Twister with no board.
Completely free,
Yet completely free.

And more than all,
How to let anyone see.
With rhyme gone its just...
Me
Where does one move forward
When the axis is so
Free