The writings of a novice

Disclaimer most of this will not make sense. Of course I just might surprise you with a bread crumb line of a plot. still don't hold me to it my grammer is so bad it is macobre. most of my lines are like a lob pass deep down a  field of dark. picking up the pieces  of my heart to write another jumbled mess for people to view. I ask myself why do I write this way? in mazes of words without reason. disregard the changing the seasons  to put what I have to say first in front of anybody else. Years of pondering on this I finally came up with the answer. I relize that my words finally matter. and no sense  matters cause my words shatter what I already know is true. What I do dictates who I am, What i say takes the sand I can't , the what I write is a kind of person i am. a compact mess with a lot  of hurt and confusion  losing his old habits to make a new me. I wish I follow the rules better I really do, but this choir boy is tired of being in the back pue an ready to stand in the poolpit with out fear or shame. Without excuses or blaming past defeats for me not succeeding. so this poem as it is. cause you would take me. At the end of this poem I just want to peel back some of layers. so I ask for your prayers to send angels like slayers and cut me to bits. this where i get rebuilt. this the writing of a novices and i can only get better from here