You can't make me
Write the way you want me to
Be the one that you want me to be.
You could never make this poem fit
With the image in your mind of how a poem should look, because I don't
Want to follow that structure.
Structure? Pah! I spit on structure; ballads are nothing to me.
Form? Give me a break - poetry is free.
Do my feelings fit with your structure? Does my mind fit into your structure? Am I the one that will always fit with your structure?
I write how I want to write.
You can't change me.
Anyway, you lied to me.
You told me I was free to go.