A day in the life and rhymes...

Sometimes my mind feels cancerous
Like a volcanic tumor. Erupting in sickening tremors of malignant thought patterns
Patterns that reverberate into, between and against the most deepest reaches
And seams which holds together the very atoms of my being

Thoughts Bursting outward and collapsing back in
The law of relativity- every action has an equal and opposite reaction
Ripping a man apart in half from opposite directions
Slow and steady, flesh parting from flesh.

How to start a story?
How to birth a rhyme?
so many concepts,
We try to entwine.

Poetry may be a talent God given
But not always a given
When paper and pen meet
We're  never guaranteed a masterpiece

Oft-times we force a rhyme
Frown at an edited line
Rephrase entire paragraphs at a time
Only to look back and find
Your verse makes even less sense than it did the first time

Similes metaphors and personification
Alliteration punctuation
Warped and weaved like a tapestry in Strategic manipulation
To unhinged and buckle your mind on penetration
We give our shoes to the wondering imagination

But Sometimes we write ourselves into a block
A block which surrounds us like a prison or even a coffin
Where your creative ebb and flow is either sentenced to life or laid to rest and rot
Lyrically constipated we forcefully write even on the walls of that block
Scraping tooth and nail with all we got
Until the words carve so deep that poetry comes bleeding out

But still

How to start a story
How to birth a rhyme
so many concepts
We try to entwine

Poetry may be a talent God given
But also a curse when reaching your lyrical ceiling
In dedicating our lives to verbalizing life into still pictures
We must experience labour pains in order to give birth and life to our literature