Unraveling Poem by Rodney Dufault

I'm going to keep these rhymes unraveling
like a line tied to a javelin.
When I look back it's like time traveling.
Look too hard and lose my footing in the fine gravelling.
I would like to keep that all from happening,
but as I feel the line slackening,
and all these things I am imagining
are at odds, so therefore I am battling.
Even my best rhymes is just me practicing,
but I feel the need for me is ratcheting.
I need to come out of the shell I've been inhabiting,
and do a little bit more flattening.
I guess I would if I should ever find it challenging,
but mostly all I hear is babbling, and it's baffling
to me that people'd buy your trash again,
yet I still don't believe it is an accident.
Makes me want rise up and ask of Him
for the strength to turn all sheeple back to men,
but every morning I awake I just relapse again.
Wake up at nine and on the attack by ten.
Grab a new pad up out of it's packaging
then copywrite every single synapse to pen.
Fresh cup o' coffee and a cigarette, that's Syrax's zen.
Just relaxing on my mattress end.
I've vocabulary in my capillaries, so I'm not lacking in
any categories that you could possibly pack me in.
I could even sing His glories and they'd let me in the Vatican.
I'm not just telling stories, and I've no worries 'cause of that. Amen.