To Rhyme or Not to Rhyme?

I asked a question of my friend

It did not seem too hard.

I wished to know

What rhymes with word,

Hardly a question for the Bard.

He said he’d heard

Of nerd and turd,

And bird and curd and herd,

And even that rude French word merde

If I wished to be absurd.

I left him to his contemplation,

I could hardly ask for more.

Eight words were all that I could hope

Before he asked me what it’s for.

When I said I was averse

To omit a telling rhyme,

He said a verse was always worse

When forced into a line.

No doubt it’s true,

A poem is killed,

Its passion bled anew,

When thought proceeds without a nudge,

A kiss from me to you.

So, suitably dissuaded from

Forcing further rhyme,

I’ve downed my pen,

I don’t know when,

But, mouse among men,

I I’ll try again

… sometime.