HOW NOT TO WRITE RHYMING POETRY

A guide for those who insist on making words sound like other words at the end of lines

Listen, your therapist might not tell you this, but I will: your rhyming poem about autumn leaves and how they make you grieve is killing small woodland creatures every time you read it aloud. The squirrels are dying, Brenda. The squirrels are dying.

Let's get this straight: rhyming isn't the problem. Shakespeare rhymed. Emily Dickinson rhymed. Your problem is that you're approaching rhyme like it's a kindergarten accomplishment, like successfully using the potty. "Look what I did! 'Heart' and 'start'! Give me a sticker!"

THINGS THAT WILL MAKE YOUR RHYMING POEM A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY:

1. Inverting word order just to make the rhyme work "Upon the hill I walked that day / And saw the children there at play" What are you, Yoda with a creative writing degree? No one talks like this. No one has ever talked like this, except maybe people being slowly crushed to death under large medieval torture devices.

2. Rhyming "love" with "above" or "heart" with "apart" Congratulations, you've just written the same poem that fourteen million teenagers have written since 1824. Your poem has the same cultural significance as a "Live, Laugh, Love" sign from Target.

3. Using words no human would ever use in conversation If your rhyme scheme forces you to use "betwixt," "o'er," or "ne'er," you should just set your computer on fire now and save us all the trouble.

4. Forcing rhymes that don't actually rhyme "The morning sun was very bright / As I contemplated my terrible plight" Did you just rhyme "bright" with "plight"? What kind of accent are you using? Are you from the made-up land of Rhymesylvania?

5. Having a sing-songy rhythm that makes adults want to commit crimes DA-dum DA-dum DA-dum DA-dum If your poem sounds like it could be the theme song for a children's show about anthropomorphic vegetables learning to share, delete it immediately.

WHAT TO DO INSTEAD

Surprise us with your rhymes. Hide them in the middle of lines. Use slant rhymes that almost-but-don't-quite match. Make us work for it. The best rhymes are the ones that don't announce themselves with a megaphone and jazz hands.

Or—radical thought—maybe don't rhyme at all? Maybe just say the thing you're trying to say without forcing "moon" and "June" to awkwardly hold hands like middle schoolers at their first dance?

If you absolutely must rhyme (perhaps due to a rare medical condition), at least make it interesting. Rhyme "existential" with "differential." Rhyme "apocalypse" with "metropolitics." Make us forget we're reading a rhyming poem because we're too busy having our minds blown by what you're actually saying.

Remember: Dr. Seuss is not your role model unless you're writing books for children who still occasionally wet themselves.

Now go forth and sin no more. Or sin better, at least. With more interesting rhymes.