My Style Defined... Sort Of

Horribly cliched poetic verse
Weak cheesy  metaphors
Embellished Dr Seuss-like rhyme
An amateur writer's curse
Repetitive, petty topics
Same muse time after time

Can't hide the crap that's scribbled
Rants with jagged rough edges
Emotions running buck ass wild
So uncontrolled and unfiltered
Exploding in a whirl of words
Like a temper tantrum throwing child

Structural flaws apparent to see
That if my poetry were a building
It would fall into uneven pieces
I let my words flow untamed and free
Frustrating feelings releasing
Putting myself at ease ain't easy

My own biggest annoying critic
Picking apart every little section
Never mind the know-it-alls here
I see most crap, they ain't gotta tell it
I don't rewrite and make corrections
If I do, I feel I'm disrupting something dear

Love isn't perfect, why should I be?
Anger is a bitch, depression is real
Emotion should  be raw, untouched
If I edit what comes out straightly
I change the accuracy of what I feel
My version of raw may not be much

But I'm for fucking sure authentic
Even though I know this for a fact
Tiny imperfections always irritate
When the first try isn't the best trick
Trying again seems like a forced act
So I try another, a way I might hate

My process isn't at all definite
It's a hyperactive trial and error
In fact, I don't know how to sum it up
This idea I'm trying to define and set
Like a multiple personality character
Ah, forget it, my mind's had enough