Analysis of Fuzz

People write better every year
My poems get better with every tear
Yet It takes a deep breath to find
The poem that leaves the others behind
Sometimes it's reflective of my little life
Sometimes it's an instant landing strip strife
Like trying not to buy a certain food
Or choosing positions that match your mood
Usually my poems are written to melody
Today it's to childish fuzz on my sons tv
It doesn't matter the setting
If the feelings there for getting
This somebody's betting
Except when agony or limits apply
That's when my mind says: That's not my poem, with a sigh.