Finally, a poem with rhyme and meter and not a senseless rant! That's what I call poetry. Mostly because the other kind I can just shoot out of my *expletive* most of the time. Just one little quip I have:
.....Now if your piece behooves a chew,
..........because odd verse feels clotted,
.....we’re apt to think your retinue
..........will opt for food less solid.
"Clotted" does not rhyme with "solid" very well.
