Undertanding this will be as easy as pie.
Like a snake shedding its skin,
As if scales had dropped from your eyes,
My words will read plainly.
No more similes.

No more masks.
No more beating about the bush.
No more waffling on the subject,
Clouds of words swarming around the hive of truth.
The curtains are gone, the window is open.
My mind is an open book, free for all to read.
No more metaphors.

The sing-song rhythm of this verse
Shall from my poetry disperse,
And, after this day's midnight chime
My poetry shall not use rhyme.

What was I trying to say?