If I don't make as hard an effort
Did i still try ?

I mean perception is a thing that can
Run for miles

On strains of thought that
Slips on tiles

To find a grip that
Doesn't hold any.

I said I'd rhyme
A verse a day

Drawing currents from the
Earth and the winds of the bay

Seeking a pressure
Which shocked the minds
But not tear the paper 

Bringing about its own subvention
And built up tension,

To a crescendo that comes
                                 together Later 

In a victory only the fringes of accomplishment can understand

And comprehend ...

Though I can read it again,
And find room for perfection

But what do I even do with it then?