#i must commit

I need to find a rhyme, I must commit. But sometimes pressure makes it hard to think— (A poem is built, not born, you little shit.)

It's all invisible until I fit Intention, syntax, plot enough to link— (I need to find a rhyme, I must commit.)

I'll choose an awful truth I can admit, One light enough that most of me won't sink— (A poem is built, not born, you little shit.)

There’s cost of course, a suffering to quit. I try to catch up with myself and drink— I need to find a rhyme, I must commit.

You might read this, somewhere, where you sit, And now I’ve said too much, and now I shrink— A poem is built, not born, you little shit.