A Poem that never was and never is and never will be……………

I was trying to write a poem, thinking that the last words had to rhyme.
Decided in the middle, that is not the style of mine.

I dunno about styles, neither have I read much.
I just dot know how to rhyme this poem. Sach

This is going to be in bad shape I know, may not deserve a post as well.
I may just end this now and ring the bell.

Atleast I tried is all I think was important.
I was failing all the time, but I was adamant.

I thought I would put in a story, a thought, and an expression
But all I can do was look was last few words and rhyming was the obsession.

That’s when I thought of an analogy.
When you do not care about the marks and study.

The marks come automatically you learn a lot.
But if it is grades you care about , it is a battle lost before fought.

I write quiet Ok they say, but when it came to a poem,
All I could do was write a few lines and moan.

I used the pronunciation of poem as pome in the last few lines.
Gosh if I could change the pronounciation multiple times.

Rhyming would not be a pain anymore.
Verses would come easy and galore.

I do not know the last few lines I put in, were grammatically right.
But my obsession for rhyming is growing with all its might.

I am writing this in very fast time, maybe this is gonna be read and made fun about .
But I tried my best; I know these few lines are nothing to feel proud.

I keep on going and seriously not once am I am thinking what I am writing
It looks as if a word of war is what I am fighting.

The fingers press the keys which go together in an asynchronous way,
But what do I do, it should rhyme they say.

Passion for writing does not mean, I can write anything ,
But this is my blog, my words , my thing.

A poem is supposed to be short some say,
But while writing this, I kept all thoughts at bay.

Go on Go on is what my fingers say, they do not stop and neither feel tired.
I am hooked on to this I am wired.

While ending any line I think of the next line in advance.
Read ahead give me a chance.

You may think that something good is gonna come.
But till now expectations have all gone bum.

Some words are creative, some are made , some are new.
This poem is a mixture of these words few,

Because when rhyming is an obsession, last word syncing is the craze
The poem quality is going to deteriorate phase by phase.

They called me a gasometer, coz I conjured up words out of nowhere.
A proof is this poem was written in less than 10 mins.. just 1 minute of reading more
to bear .

I presumed I was a writer of the degree of harivansh rai bachan
And I forgot one basic thing to mention.

Its not the rhyme that decides the quality of your writing.
But it’s the thought that the reader would be sighting.

But still without a thought if I have made you read till this line in this poem.
I think as a gasometer , one more level I have grown.