How?

Shivers in my right, as my pen strikes sparks across these pages,

This ink isn't anything but stains, what can one sentence mean to an entire essay?

Everything.

Feelings rattle my bones like prisoners in cages, or triangle vibrations and through the process of convection,

I ignite these reincarnations of trees but the flames are never summoned.

The mystic lacks the wisdom for the ritual.

Consumed by the image of my mental visuals, I plow through my neurons dictionaries to find the proper grammar for this poems context.

But yet the pressure of the constant contest constricts the breath the supposed to flow through the respiratory system of this paragraphs body.

It's the stink of a foul perfume that's influenced my my gloom (Excuses).

It's the obnoxious cloud arrogance that's prevented my bloom ( Envy).

It's the lack of a slave's regimen that's ensued my doom (Truth).

So grievance'd by my ancestors struggle that I'd deny the benefit of my blood,

It's really just a crippling naivety like a child who wait's for santa on christmas eve.

Disappointed by the gaps in my own history,

Now I must fill my future with a prize I didn't work for, mind set of a thief.

I'm nervous.