You thought you had me down-
Squarely pegged in your round hole-
Always failed to fit your mold-
Hid my face and sold my soul.
You thought you knew my lines-
Formed words to fill my silence-
Merely filling up your mind-
Fitting me in your fence.
A square is bound by rules-
Of perfect symmetry-
Enslaved by strict dimensions-
Limited by simplicity.
Perfect angles with straight lines-
I’m a master of disguise-
Carefully hidden from your view-
This great divide where I reside.
A tangled mess- an irregular form-
Shifting and pushing against the norm-
You keep your hole- it’s too uniform-
Hold what you know- while I transform!