Poetry (it's all the same to me)

it's all the same to me

Poetry,
well it's all the same to me
You see it's all ideas that started with little faith,
That sometimes are never even finished
But how odd must that be
Putting in so much time to start something
only to never finish

I'm not much of a poet
And well, 
I know it
Yet I pour out ideas that contain fears to aid me as therapy
Though like telepathy I doubt it actually works

you see I'm a peculiar child, well teen and my thoughts

kind of obscene

i'm a messed up individual who can never seem to match syllables

yet I'm writing this with ease so i guess it's doable 

but i guess that's just the beauty of writing, 

you don't have to be good to do it

you just have to do it without thinking through it

then the whirlwind comes and so does the fun of never showing or knowing

what you're truly capable of because we hide our writing and give no sightings

of our true capabilities

so it remains a mystery and our talents stay dormant till someone forces,

forces it out of us in a wave we never knew until the day it became true 

i guess that's why it's all the same to me because at the end of the day it's all just writing on a page

writing that invokes thoughts or feelings  and sometimes includes meaning

that when written on a page reveals the secrets to a person's brain

of past lovers and others who have impacted the writers in a way that make the readers react in ways they can only describe as 'same'

in a way i guess that's why it's all the same to me because it the only way i can react to it all is 'same' 

(A/N i'm not really a poet as you can obviously notice, this whole series will probably just consist of many late night rambles, so if you made it this far, thanks for reading and i'm always open to suggestions)