Ghost Thoughts

*THIS POEM WAS JUDGED*

I never got much praise
From the people that I know
They say my poetry's not good
That I should let it go
They tell me to give up
That I really have no chance
When all they've done is looked
But not seen behind first glance
They haven't touched the souls
Of the words within the page
They haven't seen them dance
When I'm writing in a rage
They know nothing of the story
Behind each single stroke
They don't know they are the whispers
That my heart has often spoke
They know nothing of me
And the things that I write
They only see the shallow things
That are seen at first sight
So perhaps I should listen
But I'd rather not
I'll continue the stories
That the world has forgot
No one can tell me
What I should do
My poems are my own
The only problem is YOU

M.I.A

Just in case anyone decides to take any kind of personal offence for any silly reason what so ever, I would just like to add that this poem is not directed at anyone personally, nor is this me targeting anyone.
This is just a poem, (a suckish one at that), about a poem, (another suckish one), I wrote in 2014 when I was 11 about how the people in my class used to snatch my papers and read my poems,then laugh at me about how bad they were.

Is it true that poems have to rhyme?