Not A Poem

The scratch of my pen,
cannot keep up,
with the speed of my thought.
Words whisper around my mind,
demanding to be put to paper
But my writing is too slow,
And I forget
what I really meant to say.
And the words come out
Wrong.
Close but
not quite
What they were supposed to be.
This jumbled mess
in my notebook
sounds so wrong to me
And some who say
"Great poem"
Or
"Keep writing"
Leave me confused,
because all
I see,
Is a mess on the paper.
Not a poem.
Not what its supposed to be