A Rhyme Isn'T a Reason To Hate the Way I Write These Demons

A rhyme isn't a reason to hate the way I write these demons if only I could see a light for seasons changing a reminder leaves are changing or a night to rearrange things but inside I see the rain from behind the windows painting facing the fact that failure is an option nonsense takes me away from amazing great, thinking the same thing relating in this maze sea of disgracing my own taste for poetry knowing these phases where I make it so seen note it isn't noticing but only we can fake it always false thinkin' about the wrong weekend for all seekin' for tall beacons to watch over the water to feel like you ended up higher than the walls you build when all you do is kill the weaker thoughts distilled up on this hill, upon this trail a long tunnel hidden along with it for songs written to follow with it's hollow finish wallow in this sorrow vision while you listen to all the vivid that's constant kickin' it's a strong wish wishin' on a star lit, glistened on the heart with kisses missin' all it's pistons stickin' paws with mittens belonging in a box with a lot of knocks and pinches hard rocks and stitches formed off all of these talks and whispers in the misery river, we float right on with it some quickly and some with me one simply won with me, caused history because I'm with me