Trying To Make Sense

The first line is the hardest
Then there is the second line that flows from the first
After the third and forth I am lost
Which direction do I want to go or do I try to stay the same course
I rhymed all last words and the first word of each sentence is different to reduce repetition
But there is always something missing
It is like the words that come out are never the truth I feel
Eventually I burn out
Having to accept failure of expression, concept, and what's the word I am looking for... implementation?
Naw, it has something to do with doing something right... oh execution
Feels like my tongue is cut out
Feels like I am repeating someone else
Feels like I am using the word feel too often and I should relax and wait for something else to come out
Oh, and out is too repetitious by now
I am just thinking out loud 
Thinking out loud has to be stolen from others
What's unique any more
Everything is borrowed, stolen, and slightly revised and recycled
Too far from the point aren't I?
I lost focus on the main idea of this so called poem
Forgive me, extraordinary ideas can come from the most ordinary people 
And if so, are they no longer ordinary?
I hope so
I hope ordinary is a paradox of it's creator
I hope extraordinary is everything
But, everything being extraordinary, does that lessen the value of extraordinary?
Would it no longer be extraordinary?
I hope not
I hope everyone can find their place in this world
I hope everyone can feel love, and be in love their entire life
See too many I's starting a sentence
Just mentioning it feels like a mistake
Mistakes create more mistakes
Vague I know, but it must be said
Mistakes compound like interest 
Writers often get taxed by every mistake
No one likes taxes
To be blunt, I have to cut this short
I have work to do, a meeting to attended
I have a life outside of this world of mine
Farewell. Peace. I can not be late.
 

Tags: metaphor, deep, confused,