I read my daughter one of my poems
Disgusted she said, "It doesn't rhyme"
"It has no rhythm, it doesn't scan"
I said "I can do that - from time to time"

She said "It's only words on paper"
"Pretty words, but even so"
"Where's the meter, where's the structure?"
I smiled and said "I let it go."

She turned away and shrugged her shoulders
Said, "I don't know which is worse"
"Being stuck with Wordsworth in double English"
"Or knowing my mother writes - free verse"

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