To Rhyme or Not to Rhyme

 
To rhyme or not to rhyme – that has always been my question
But I’m guilty of this crime whenever I freshen up with a session
I like to remove the slime and grime every time I write a primal line
And make the sum bitch shine and sign like a sighing dyeing mime
                       …even if it’s color blind
            
With a skilled quill I’ll spill ill frills and grill it until I’ve had my fill
Because the will to drill these goldmines has always given me a thrill
Even still after the pill has killed my itch to pitch and pen a perfect ten
I find fun times with puns and rhymes like gems every now and then
                        …over and over again

I like to spit sick because I have this big dictionary and thick thesaurus
It’s no bull (or taurus) but I used to thumb through ‘em like it was a clitoris
I’d read for hours gaining powers and devoured poetry when I was sprung
To shower and deflower the ears of peers with my young cavalier tongue
                        …but my stutter left me stung

Now I just twirl and swirl but I can’t reverse the cursed verse when I hurl
I spew a slew of new whoop-de-do just to screw around and give it a whirl
I can hear an inner voice telling me to steer clear of everything I’ve feared
But it’s my alter ego praying saying “I’m nuts, but this motherfucker is weird”
                        …”and the rhyme is badly smeared”

So yes, from time to time I’ll rhyme with extra chimes to enhance a line
It’s all intertwined and combined designed to make my pine feel divine
I jam it, ram it and cram it, but got damn it don’t you dare and spam it
My rhyme may not be prime but a silly crime so I think I’ll just Instagram it
                        …so excuse me while I slam it