Shall I Compare Thee to a Daffodil?

I dwell in possibility, not rules,
Where beetles talk and teacups hum with light.
My thoughts wear hats and dance through dreams at night,
Unbothered by the ticking clocks of schools.
I hear in colours, swim in silent pools,
Where daffodils recite their own delight,
The sun composes verses out of spite
For rigid minds and symmetry-bound fools.

But hush! The world would press me into form,
Demand I walk their line, not skip or spin.
Yet I, like Frost, choose paths that twist and storm—
Where wildness blooms and true revolt begins.
I am not broken, odd, or out of norm:
I am the fire they tried to cage within.