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(Writer Poem) As The Poem I Write

Sometimes a comment is just not what is needed.
Neither is going back to the drawing board.
Corrections must be made.
I've made so many on my own trust me.
I take pride in everything I write.
So I'm constantly inspecting, and words I'm always injecting.
Hmm, that just doesn't sound right.
I can hear every word I type in my own voice.
I'm speaking through my mind.
Through the waves of time.
In a private message I will make suggestions to those who are not disciplined when it comes even to capitalization
I will make only tiny suggestions for it is theirs.
They must reread it and reread it.
One must edit his own work after the thoughts are complete.
Trying to make them nice and neat.
The eyes begin to blur and then it is time to take a break.
Time away.
Time to gather ones thoughts for another day.
Time is all one needs to create a window which will open up and lead into their world.
Everyone is unique and all of its own.
Yet they are so many clones.
For frequently similarities do exist even when great is the distance.
We do think a lot like as much as we hate to admit it.
I try to not be bias as best I can.
But sometimes feelings so strong do nag at you.
Saying they are wrong.
But I do not give in easily for I know it could always be reversed.
A controversy in terms of the opinions of the readers.
Opinions being so many that it is sometimes hard to resolve the differences from fact and fiction.
The ability to easily lie with no idea that we even did it is a definite human affliction.
Unintentional will habits of progress.
A continuation of aggravation in varying elaborations.
With each puzzle solved multiple new one forms.
Sometimes even more difficult then last.
Sometimes for help and guidance we turn to the past.
For in a certain we think lies the solution.
The dawning of a conclusion.
And we sometimes think this order might destroy the chaos all around us.
But it will not.
It will make it easier to deal with.
But their is no fixing it.
Not as the poem I write.

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