My mom was saying at the beginning of the week, that she's really not a fan of poetry, especially poetry that rhymes. Well, we'll see what she thinks of this one. The form is called "internal rhyme"...basically, the word at the end of each line has a word in the next line rhyme with it, but that word isn't supposed to be the last word of that next line, it's supposed to be somewhere in the middle.
With spins and whirls and twirls
And curls in someone's hair.
There. Do you see the spark
In the dark, when flint and steel collide,
Slide, and become something new?
Me and you become US
As the lust crashes
Like a wave and smashes reservations.
Nations could fall,
But all I'd care about is the crash of cymbals
When we kiss, symbols of