'Awake', 'Snowflake'.
every line with it's rhyme
saved up to flourish at the end.
Then the crocodile passing the lollipop lady:
'Limp', Lazy' and 'Loitering'
a select congregation 
branded with a cipher on the head.
And once commonplace
the dragon and the unicorn
now only haunt castle ruins.
When they pass a fallen wall
I clap my hands with childish glee.
Sadness also deepens-
dragons don't exist.
And I know the unicorn
is routinely stamped down
with big green wellies.
Symmetry is frowned upon
although it is the basis of beauty.
How grown up we have become!
Rhyme is officiously plucked out
like a tumorous eyeball
and, knowing best, we will not allow
in any sense, a poem to be set on a pedestal 
as a Poem.
As electronic clicking counting as music
all words are equal.