I have heard it said my times,
            when talking of poetry that rhymes,
there is pretense in writing such stuff.
I guess the thinking here would be,
           and maybe folks think this of me,
if you’re rhyming you aren’t feeling deep enough.

Does this mean my verse is insincere
            and what I’m feeling is not really clear
because I rhyme every so other line?
A poem is in the feelings it conveys
            and emotions are aroused in so many ways
because we are all different by God’s grand design!

Is it not the challenge of the poet
            to take an inner feeling and show it
so his audience will feel it too?
With all the different souls that there are,
            with emotions being as varied as they are
arousing great numbers is an amazing thing to do.

The best poets touch the most souls!
            Now that’s the mark of a true bard!
And when they do it’s in such a way
            that it doesn’t seem to be very hard!

Master poets can compose a tune
that sings so no heart is immune
to the emotions the verse tries to convey.
You need not rhyme every so other word,
verses have moved me that sounded absurd,
as long as the audience can feel what you say.

But I must honestly tell you right here to your face
you’re missing something my un-rhyming friend.
And that’s the fun and the thrill of the chase
of a rhyme that comes to a natural end.

Little kids only know now!
            They have no history to mark them,
no regrets that make them cry,
                        no secret agendas to hide–
life has not marred or scarred
what they brought into this world.
            So it should be no mystery as to why they
strip down and parade in front of us naked.

They are not being undignified.
They’re simply communicating who they are
the only way they know how.

                                                 It’s us,
the well-dressed adults, who are lacking in dignity.
We feel like we have to cover up all our old news
            for fear of being discovered who we really are.
Preachers in flowing robes
                        and old bitches in gaudy makeup
            will chastise nudists for the lifestyle they choose. 
            They say from Godliness they have ventured too far.

             
                        But I think God would smile favorably
                                    on those who hide not their life’s results.
    
I have not been without sin,
so you would not expect me to be a nudist.
            But I’m finding lying myself bare is simpler
than trying to cloak it.
The fashionable lie gets harder and harder to wear.
As time goes by you have to keep adjusting it to fit
            each situation.
Alterations are constantly in order.
Stronger elastic,
                        heftier hems,
and it seems like you’re always
having to zip up your zipper.

The scars of pretense are scarcely pretty.
The fat of lies forms in layers of foul flesh
that when exposed will disgust everyone.
  
I have seen it, and so have you.
I have been it and I bet you have too.

And isn’t deceit always a desperate destination
that always adds extra baggage to every situation?
    
That’s why when I grow up
I want to be a stripper!