Rhyming Or: How to Sound Twelve

Alright, this is your warning. I wanted to test my rhyme and meter in poetry, see if I could still manage to pull out some writing discipline from my brain. And I managed it. But I’ve always been sucked into one type of meter, the same rhythm with every single poem. Ok, I did write a sonnet once, but we won’t go into that here (read: I’m still bitter). I don’t know. There’s either something about my meter, or something about rhyme in general, that just ends up sounding childish to me. But here’s what I came up with. Take it for what it’s worth.

It seems it’s never-ending
This journey that I take
Climbing towards the invisible
Leaving shadows in my wake

The mountain grows impossibly
The paths they twist and turn
Sometimes the light it guides me
And other times it burns

For each obstacle that blocks me
There’s another that I leap
For every soaring vista
There’s a darkness far too deep

Sometimes I meet companions
Fellow travellers on their own
But eventually their footsteps fade
And I continue on again, alone

With each step I think of stopping
To leave the mountain cold and grey
Yet compelled I keep on walking
My goal in sight, for one more day