Rhymes Suck.

Do you hear me, out there, rhymes? Do you hear me? I think you're stupid. I hate you, rhyming. You're a crutch. A hard-to-use crutch that I can't seem to get the hang of. Look at me, I'm a poet and I can't write a couplet to save my life. Well, I can, but. Let me demonstrate.

Everyone was happy,
Life was sappy,
And then it all turned crappy,
BECAUSE THEY ALL DIED.

Are we beginning to understand why it was such a freakish stroke of luck that I ended up being the court poet at Canterlot? It's almost enough to make me believe in destiny and all, since it was there that I met Luna and well... you know. She's laughing at me right now, by the way, because I'm having an impossible time trying to write this stupid limerick for that annoying pony. The one with the color-stripes in her hair who's always calling me an idiot. No, not Luna, she doesn't have color-stripes and her mane is all... starry. Yes, Twilight Sparkle. Horses of Heaven this is frustrating me.
Anyway. Where was I? Right. I hate rhymes. I know, I know. "You're a poet, poems rhyme." Well, no, poems don't have to rhyme, and the poetic style I've always used actually functions better without rhyme. Rhyme often conveys a certain positivity that my poems lack: sure, this can be countered by modifying the standard meter and by tampering with the patterning of the rhyme scheme, but it's much easier to write:

Sallow fields, empty and devoid of life,
Whispering, crying out for what they have lost,
Oh broken ivory bones that lay riff-raff torn
Across the derelict and empty and forgotten wastes.

Over:

Sallow fields, empty and devoid of life,
Whispering, crying out against past strife,
Oh broken ivory bones that lay spread along the earth,
Remnants from which death has gone and stolen all worth.

And look what we have on top of that awkward meter, we have a bad case of encroaching lines. You know, where lines steadily grow longer and longer despite the fact they should all be the same length. Stupid lines. Stupid everything. I think I've made my point clear, anyway.