Poetry Woes

To rhyme or not ?
The words I jot.
Is the issue forever
In each endeavour.
Thoughts flit and fly
As the day goes by.
Like soft warm clay
With words I play.
Patting them to shape,
As they flow and drape.
The feelings entwined
With thoughts in my mind.
And every time 
That I pause to rhyme,
I wonder why ?
I even try ?
When I easily can
Simply write deadpan.
Yet as thoughts flow,
I benevolently bestow,
The perfectly matched,
No words detached,
Canvas of rhyme,
Almost every time.