familiar waters
flow like a wave,
trickle a rhythmic down poor
grasping solace spaces
within conducive centers

signs-other wise noted
of alternating views,
bundled for impulsive branches

so that we may realize
what we lack at times

a pull upon the contrary
system

without a bias past

I cannot deliberately let my thoughts
 submit to the analysis of others, 

i play this bored game of horizontal
and vertical accesses 
repeatedly looking for anticipations 

Waiting patiently in mannerisms
yet arrested in my thoughts
of what may surely come 

Hiding behind pieces of subjected
characterized moves, with expected directions
looking for counters prefixed  with in black and white

 We autonomously stop time
continue
and repeat
 monotonously the labors
of harboring secrecy  

We seek company
to displace reality
within moving emotion 

checking to see our common
modality for commodities    

Poetry by any sort of standard definition is an exposition of one's thoughts, emotions, or experiences in which evokes a reflective emotional response to the reader.

The interesting point that correlates Rhyme with poetry is the primal necessity of communication. When we speak a word or write and it has a measure of rhyme involved, one should look of the word choices and subjects behind the rhymes

Rhyme from an etymological analysis is the use of similar sounds within the words of a language. Rhyme can be notably observed in the syllabic sounds of the suffixes and prefixes of words. Contextually suffixes and prefixes are derivatives in the evolution of human languages, where some words have been rooted and transplanted from even the most contrasting cultures.

For example cat, mat, hat, sat, all have the stress use of syllable "-at" and from a perspective one an allude there is directive use in the base of the language in this case English. By changing the first letter we change one sound from an animal (Cat) to an action (sat). Language then builds on these similarities, which is notably seen in the Latin roots of most of the romantic language.

The point that I'm attempting to make here is that there’s a connection of the roots of language and how rhyme conveys a emotional response; a poet chooses certain words to create imagery, symbolism, metaphor, personification etc. but with the use of rhyme the expression becomes bolder, and interpersonal with the reader. This typicality found with rhyme and poetry is not just a classic form of a writing medium it's a time capsule of how far our languages have diversified but yet have remained quite connected.

It is futile
to rationalize and scrutinize
the aspects of life,

because for someone to truly understand everything;
places the mind
into a detached complacency and loneliness.

A state of being that is not of human nature with even the most recluse.

You sit there
devout in your intentions,
Deeply sure
that the path laid
is the path surely taken.

Frozen in my views
merely
kneeling
before alters of instituted obstacles,
feeling, pleading with myself
that what is set before me
is a fork with a middle way
taking my own trident
to absolve into paganistic
views of this world
where each objective
has a celestial voice

my comforts are
within knowing
and not what I try to understand

This is my mind thwarting fear
but repeatedly left in complacency.
Giving answers to my own questions
While my self interrogation
Never has been set in this time.

But always focused on the future
With a pessimistic view of the world

So that I can be secure
not be shocked, and surprised

To prevent myself to be mechanized
To form thoughts away from obscurity
So that I will not compulsively lie to sleep

I need to be difficult, and serious.

I need to be a person that gives them self
Hardships, days that put others to quickly raised flags
Because for some unexplainable reason, easiness, failure, and simply being stationary
Never has kept me defeated, but has provided me success.

I know myself but not well, but enough to realize my faults, and actions

My mind is always thinking, moving, caring, reasoning, and limiting itself
Because I am still simply a human trying to use sense in this world

We forget we are human;
We lay frozen in these carnal desires
We need to melt away
And be mindful of our winters