I'm sifting through parts of myself
With the aim of finding the source that fuels this wealth
Of misconstrued illustrations
Because its distorting the interpretation
Of my communication.
I often give compliments which are in turn
Wrongfully discerned as disrespect.
I need to fix this mess
Because its responsible for many a relationship's degradation.
Its so elusive,these lucid elucidation.
Quite frequently the pictures I've painted
With words are tainted
And heard as if they'd been submerged
And stirred in a pool of water
Which ruins their sense of order.
Sometimes the fault is the tone of my voice,
Verbal mistakes or a distasteful choice of expressions
Which leave bitter impressions in their wake.
Either way,my social life is at stake
And if I don't take this seriously and start planning,
I'll end up panning my lenses
Curiously wondering why my friends have all walked away furiously.
Clarity sometimes betrays me like a ship's crew commits mutiny
And it causes my train of thoughts a great loss of unity.
I've gotta do something about this before they read my eulogy
And it definitely requires more than sitting here staring foolishly.
It's gonna take a great deal of practice to not suck and become good
But if that's what it takes I'll just have to do it because I'm sick of being misunderstood.
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