Me, A Poet?

Me, A Poet?
I try with lyrical attempt to string words that otherwise
Wouldn't make any sense.
Finding balance between expression, freedom
and the fear of revealing myself
I try to hold down a sense of sadness within my scope of fun
An oxymoron gives me the ability to lay down my pun
I try with the greatest pleasure to give to you, my reader
My Critique, the chance to maybe, maybe give me a chance
To read me, like a book, an open book, word by word, word to word
I speak in a language of words, weightless words
Words that unfold my deepest mystery
It is not complicated, it’s a simple function of placement
Word after word, I use them as pawns in my game
As I dance about in circles making absolutely ridiculous sense
My pawns killed in the process, scarified for a better verse
There lies in me a hope, that someone somewhere will speak my language
In my poetic lyrical language that I hide behind, trying to convey
The story of a boy hoping to be a poet someday, and because
Because I try, I always have, I always will, try, to make
creative sense within my nonsense.