Love Letter
I know it doesn't look like a poem, but it's written like one. If you read it out loud, it will be easier to hear the un-metered rhyme.
You caught me again. Even though I tried to beat you off with the heavy sticks of minor annoyance, you found your way through my piled defenses--subliminal lists of flaws I found in you, roots I allowed to take hold and grow until they began to squeeze the life out of love. You know what I'm speaking of? I tried not to like you; I lied to myself, even though I did find my own due recourse. I turned to hostile friends as a source of gossip and slander, sought to end my indiscreet fascination with you by beating down every ounce of admiration. In desperation convinced myself that you don't deserve love. Aggravated by tiny things I blew to enormous. But turns out my attempted defenses are inadequate. You, the source of my frustration and eminent desperation reached in through the one weak cinderblock of my fortress and disarmed me, touched my face. The flower which had lost its pigmentation--the glowing bloom of health its evident sign of life--shuddered as the tiniest drops of dew refreshed it. Slowly, color long-absent seeps into the fair flower which is now nourished and carefully tended, the new lily of my valley.