Writing as one of my ocs

I typically don’t like walking out
When it is unruly blackness and I
Have to watch where I am going in fear
I will not make it home for supper; it
always makes me fearful. I stay awake

Thinking about the night. I remember
Looking at the abyss and two eyes there
Peered in front of me, opening; I didn’t
wait to see if a smile would appear ‘cause
I took off running to my wife and kids.

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I was in the mood to write poetry and use a syllable counter to write each line with ten syllables. I do not know how to write with iambs and feet or really understand how to do any of that stuff. No matter how much I read on it, I don’t understand. I don’t understand it even to make a conlang.

There are just humongous holes in my linguistics and it’s ridiculous how I have characters that are highly educated and intelligent and skilled with abilities that I do not possess or aren’t at the level yet. I want to be great a lot or call myself a polymath, but I’m a bonehead as of now. A young bonehead.