Exausted Homonyms

I've been doing this half my life,
from this point on,
claimed majority,
though the constant writer's blocks might even the score,
as they scrounge the depths for freshness.

So here it seems i always am,
perplexed to express,
for i've never known.

Spinal cord dipped in ink.
trapped in style, i tell myself, of lesser descriptions,
self-convinced that fixated patterns of rhyming pose challenge with their limitations.
Limitations as just that.

It's been so long, it's become routine,
to fiend,
it seems,
and dream,
of some new structure.

Certain words to certainly fit,
as certainty suggests.
Words paired with others like twins.

"Down" paired with "Ground",
as we writers moan and groan.
How many times conveyed before limitation must we imprison ourselves to simple sounds of simply sounding?
Suffixes whom always meet.

I still find their joy,
but realize, the patterns that i attach.
Too latched like teet to milk's stunted growth.

Bided time til now, to open grey newborn eyes.
As so it is time to develop different ways to express.
As "style", is term for stagnation. Set in stone.
Does not even rock bend to the slight, but constant pressures of water?

Needed for all of life.