(I don’t normally write poetry that a) rhymes; and b) isn’t funny. Here is an example of a poem that breaks both rules.)
Frayed bends of pages
shuffle from between
the ends of ages:
a notebook, seen
through many years
of a young man’s life;
While you shifted gears
from girlfriend to wife
and watched me grasp
the bare, stripped ends
of a wish by the wires, clasped
and burning in my hands,
what you must know now.
After fifteen years in,
what you must know now.