Poetry wasn’t something I ever loved.

Poetry was hard.

Poetry meant rhyming stupid words and phrases for grades.

Poetry meant alliterations and similes and metaphors that I didn’t care about at all.

Poetry meant sitting at a desk and thinking of what to write,

an ode to this, a limerick about that, now write a haiku

“that’s not a haiku”

“that rhyming scheme is incorrect.”

“You don't portray enough love for the topic.”

Well of course not, I hate the topic.

 

Essays were better for me

Essays were logical, thought out pieces with no hidden meanings.

Essays were clean and to the point.

Essays, I could always understand.

Essays, people could always understand me.

 

Fiction became even better.

Fiction was my own world.

No need for reason, and definitely no rhyme.

Fiction could be whatever I wanted, wherever I wanted, and whoever I wanted.

Fiction had no rules.

Fiction had no structure.

Fiction was me.

 

Fiction brought me to magic, which I loved.

Magic brought me to spells, which I adored.

Power in my hands,

My staff shot fire and lightning at my foes and suddenly I was important.

Spells were all-solving

Spells could heal

Spells could hurt

Spells could do anything you wanted them to do.

 

But spells,

were always,

always,

said in rhyme.

 

“To bind the spell well every time,

let the spell be said in rhyme”

 

There it went again, that evil evil poetry.

Rhyming schemes and different grammar rules dominated even my perfect magic.

I say a curse on poetry itself, but the curse is said in rhyme.

Suddenly I rhyme,

every single time.

Every word I then would speak,

Fell to rhyme as it passed my cheek.

Suddenly though it doesn’t seem tragic,

I’d become a victim of my own magic.

 

Now I write to cast my spells,

Written in rhyme to bind them well,

My fantasies and stories told,

All seem to come from scrolls of old.

For magic rites in them must bind

Ending with sounds of the same kind.

 

That didn’t really happen.

I’m not cursed.

But I do only write poetry when I have to.

I still do not like poetry as much as Fiction,

Or Journaling, or Essays, or any other kind of writing ever.

Rhyming, however, is a part of me.

Of witchcraft

of wicca

of my spellbooks

of my fictions

of my creative writings

And I couldn’t write effectively without it.