Mismatch

Poem Poet They don’t always match It is not exact I mean, opposites attract Every brand new batch Of poems can detract From the original, not intact The idea that did hatch May not become tact The meaning now abstract But I guess that is the catch When you make a pact, Or rather a devil’s contract To somehow patch The little compact Of inspiration, from which you distract Yourself from your detach That cut you off mid act You try to reenact And reattach Disregarding the fact That you were the one to subtract Actual creativity to snatch At the chance to transact Quality to make an impact But it all went down the latch I guess all it did was counteract Your initial goal, inexact From the world, you unattach And live on in redact With no one to interact Forever to be a mismatch Written on December 3, 2020