What is a poem?
How does it have to be?
What is a good poem to you?
What is not?

A poem can Rhyme,
a poem can have a rythm,
a poem can have similies,
a poem can have metaphors.
A poem can be like a story,
a poem can be like a song,
a poem can have quotation marks,
all of these belong.

A poem doesn't need to Rhyme,
a poem doesn't need a Rythm,
a poem doesn't need any similies,
a poem doesn't need any mataphors.
A poem doesn't need to be like a story,
a poem doesn't need to be like a song,
a poem doesn't need quotation marks,
all of these belong.

A poem can express your feelings,
and sometimes it may not,
A poem can explain what you are feeling and thinking,
and sometimes it may not,
But everything belongs.

A poem that rhymes,
may be funnier,
A poem that has rythm,
may be easier.

But all of those suggestions a poem can be,
they all can be a poem.

There is no poem that is not a poem,
and there is no poem that I don't imagine it to be a poem.

Everything is possible.

 Something new,
it has to happen,
something good,
it has to too.

If we continue polluting,
If we continue wasting water,
If we contine killing animals,
There'll be nothing left.

Not you,
nor me,
nor anybody in my family.

None of us will be here.

This is not nature,
the world wasn't made for this.

Without nature nobody will live.

Right now Nature is sick. 
If we don't stand up and cure her,
we'll die too.

So what are we doing,
are we all suiciding ourselfs?

Let's get some work done,
we need something new.

We need to start again,
from the very beginning.

Because this is not nature,
and Nature is sick.

We need something new,
And something good has to happen.

 
I met a woman once on a street and this is how she spoke:
" I was on a train, 
on a trip to spain,
when I forgot my brain,
(it was such a pain),
so I went on a plane,
and it started to rain,
But instead I got sent to Ukraine"

I met a police officer once on the police station and this is how he spoke:
"Peace, don't call the police,
for a crime that is just a waste of time!"
and,
"I was talking to a woman on a train to spain,
So, what is wrong with your brain?"
and,
"Yes this is a waste of time,
because this crime is just a mime,
and that a poem that doesn't rhyme,
isn't a crime."

I met an engineer on a meeting and and this is how he spoke:
 "This prehistoric, 
organic,
mosaic you have at home,
it is terrific!
But this tragic,
elastic,
historic,
and plastic computer,
is Horrific!
But my mettalic,
electric,
public,
attic is much more automatic than yours."

I once met an architect and this is how he spoke:
"Yesterday I rolled a dice,
it was as hard as a cube of ice,
but then when I saw a bunch or mice,
I would have taken my friends advice,
and not eaten the bowl of rice,
that was awfully covered with lice,
(that happened twice or trice),
and that wasn't very nice."

I once met a Rhyme,
and it is the one you are reading now.

When I met a poem,
the first one I'd met,
I thought it was really boring,
something that I did admit.

 It had no rythm, 
it had no Rhyme,
it had no title,
it was a crime.

When I told the police,
What the heck did he say?
"Peace, don't call the police,
for a crime that is just a waste of time!"
"May you explain?" 
"I was talking to a man on a train to spain,
So, what is wrong with your brain?"
"I have no problem with my brain,
I am just trying to explain,
that there is a poem commiting a crime,
And this is NOT a waste of time."
"Yes this is a waste of time, 
because this crime is just a mime,
and that a poem that doesn't rhyme,
isn't a crime."

And than I freaked out,
and I really doubt,
a poem would start such a thing,
like a woman falling over a ring,
forgetting her left wing,
in the middle of spring.

When I met a poem,
the second one I'd met,
I found out very easily,
that a poem doesn't have to Rhyme.

(The second one was the police if you didn't know)

 Kalleforamargashopa forfomurto was a very smart girl. She had many positive things. she was polite, she was strong, she was helpful, she had creativity and so on. She liked hugging but she could control it and she would hug her mother when she got home. She was very bright, she always looked at the positive. Like the time when she lost her favorite doll she did cry but she ended up looking at the positive.
“I know I have lost my doll but crying won’t help. I have to look at the bright side. Now that I won’t have my doll I might start paying attention to other things going around apart from her,” That’s the kind of thing she always said.
But then one day, something horrible happened. Her mother was forgetting stuff. Like the day it was cold and a storm was outside during the winter her mum said,
“Hey henry, let’s go to the beach!” You should have seen her wearing those sunglasses and sandals and the dress she had on. Everything was going to far and she went to the hospital. Kally and her dad were outside the door on a bench. Kally wasn’t wearing a smile today, she was wearing a frown. You could tell she was worried. When the doctor came out he said,
“She has cancer, she won’t survive this one.” Then Kally’s dad couldn’t stop asking questions like:
“Are you sure she didn’t just faint and forget everything and that she is fine?” And the doctor would always answer:
“No she seriously has it.” And the next day.... She was dead.