Why I Am a Poet

First I ran
Through the woods
Then street
I would plod
Classes
Took me away
And reality
I would allay
My mind grew
Foggy
Even in progress
I would make a mess
My life boggy
A thick stew
I tried to pray
To a divinity
But I would sway
Chanting alases
Avoiding God
Then try to greet
The hoods
Whence I began