Of Poetry

When I
Sit down to write
A poem
The first line
Comes easy
And then I struggle
To find the
Second one
Because it ought to
Rhyme

I struggle some
And I find it
Eventually
And then I wonder
Maybe
They made
So many words
Even when
They mean the same
Just to write
Poetry
A whole language
Created
Just to write
Poetry

Maybe
Just maybe
They created
The universe
For the very same
Reason
Just to
Write
Poetry?