From all the jails the Boys and Girls Ecstatically leap— Beloved only Afternoon That Prison doesn’t keep They storm the Earth and stun the Air, A Mob of solid Bliss— Alas—that Frowns should lie in wait For such a Foe as this—
I can really see the argument here. Poetry is really a wild art form. Its structured, but supposed to be free flowing. It is literally an ambiguous art form.