This Poem Does Not Rhyme

This is not a rhyming poem, I just want you to know
The words don’t sound the same, but I cannot tell you how.
Sometimes in a church hymnal the first line ends in “rain”
But the next line down, it seems, they’ve matched it with “again.”
If you’re in a swordfight, and you’re hands are tightly bound,
You better have sweet moves, or you will end up with a wound.
And while I’m on the subject, and talking about swords,
I must say a fight of courage can’t be described in too few words.
I hope that someone likes my poem, and my wonderful ideas,
If not, I’ll feel rejected and go sail the seven seas.
If you want to kick me out, then I will become an exile
And if it’s done swift as lightning, then that’s a simile.
I might be a little crazy, insanity in its highest dose,
Or maybe my allergies make me crazy ‘cause I can’t breathe out my nose!
My mother is a clown, and I’m my mother’s daughter,
And with that much being said, I hope this poem brings much laughter.
This is not a sad poem, so your eyes shall not tear,
But it might be an annoyance, so your hands might tear.
There is something in the forest that many folks are privy,
The thing that I speak of is the itchy poison ivy.
Just the other day, my daddy’s car was towed,
To never let that happen again is what my daddy vowed.
I right this wizened poem, while I am in my Youth,
And I hope I can keep it long after my health goes south.
Alaska is a cold place that I don’t really want to go,
But for reasons I don’t understand, there are many that actually do.
Have you met my darling friend Sally?
If I ever went to war she would be my greatest ally.
And if in some future time I have to go to war
I hope I’m not alone, and I hope it’s not too far.
And now I want some ice cream, I’m talking a whole pint,
The flavor that I’m craving is delicious chocolate mint.
I hope this frustrating poem doesn't make you red with fury,
Until you just can’t stand it and this poem try to bury.
I hope it doesn’t make your brain get hot with fever,
Because I’m afraid something like that might just last like that forever.
If you think too hard about it, your head will start to ache,
You might lose all sensibility and try to grow a mustache.
This poem is so grand, I hope it doesn’t get lost,
Otherwise the memory of this poem will just be a ghost.
Now I finish up my writing, 'cause you're begging me to cease,
I apologize if you were unable to read it with much ease.