If I don't make as hard an effort
Did i still try ?
I mean perception is a thing that can
Run for miles
On strains of thought that
Slips on tiles
To find a grip that
Doesn't hold any.
I said I'd rhyme
A verse a day
Drawing currents from the
Earth and the winds of the bay
Seeking a pressure
Which shocked the minds
But not tear the paper
Bringing about its own subvention
And built up tension,
To a crescendo that comes
together Later
In a victory only the fringes of accomplishment can understand
And comprehend ...
Though I can read it again,
And find room for perfection
But what do I even do with it then?
