I'mma Bounce Back And Forth For A While

I tried to rhyme like my poetry's real,
but there is woe in me still
and a flow that
foes hope they can steal,
like hubcaps, spokes and wheels
My darkness concealed
for two or three spiels,
now I'm back to the healing,
and typical dribble,
bouncing hopes to find some despicable middle
of rhyming and drivel
that a sad heart produces