Analysis of Achieving To Accomplish

It took me quite some time to realize,
My efforts endeavored to achieve...
Something done I did to believe,
Had been repeatedly accomplished.
Although mentally I had not,
Intentionally sought notoriety.

Early in my inquisitive childhood.
I awakened to feel,
I had been molested by words.
Penetrating my mind.
Finding words heard spoken to me,
All the time.
Leaving me with a need,
Early in my childhood to ask...
What a word meant said,
I wanted it defined.

Then I began to understand,
Those cuss words heard...
Were not in dictionaries.
And that began my adventure.

My mother disliked,
My finding walls in our apartment.
As a way to express this discovery.
She would always say,
"Boy, what is wrong with you?"
Until I refused to admit,
There was nothing else I loved to do.
Especially in those days,
A tolerating of the 'weird and unusual'...
Had been as if a sin to commit.

So long ago had those times been.
And today I write.
Not for the attention,
My writing has been given.
Or recommendations to suggest,
My interest invested...
Would further bless my pockets.
With a returning to me,
A monetary happiness.

Even though as I age,
Up in years to look back to reminisce.
If I wrote just for the money
From the doing of this to get?
I would not be a writer of poetry at all.
No.
I would probably be a singer.
An actor or a dancer.
Maybe a comedian too.
Since I do come from a family.
Of talented performers.
But not one a writer to love as much as I do.

Although...
Naturally I grew up,
Seeking a path that had more of a challenge.
Because those other things done,
Around me day in and day out.
Became too common as an expectation.
And...
I guess,
As I grew to age to become older.
I would get, eventually, attention given to me.
For not choosing to be like everyone else.
Especially the ones I knew who were better.
But their efforts to endeavor,
Were kept to themselves.
And at one time I did the same thing.
Until my sister read something I wrote.
To disbelieve
Like my elementary school teachers.

And that was all I needed,
To have my writings...
Be discovered to breathe a life of their own.

However...
These days?
I am not reluctant to admit,
I had been awakened...
To find myself being molested by words.
Loving to enjoy,
What I then thought had been...
An invasion of my mental to keep secret,
Personal and covered up activities.
Without fearing my dreams,
Wet and the cause of puppy love!