Beam Me Up

There is nothing to write today.

The pot is empty
The pumpkin is carved
The leaves have fallen off the trees
The peach is dry
The air is sterile
The peanut shell is peanut-less
The line is long
My patience is gone.

Why does everything have to rhyme?

I don't want to be like a wave:
I want to be the moon.
I don't want to need to be needed
but I do
I don't want to be so predictable:
I want to surprise.
I'm so tired of discommunication
It's hurting my eyes.

And why does everything have to rhyme?