An Unsung Admiration is my Aspiration!

is nothing wrong in these aspirations⁉
How I'm unsung in my admiration⁉

 My song, a long drawn out itineration, err i mean  a sequential enumeration. I made sense yet?

No? A confusing confiscation, or profuse profusion of an excuse, of my case in point. A Derivation!

I should be content, but am not, with my obtuse situation making... Framing the shape is waning!

Tis' deliberative of my submissive limitation. I make no sense! i know! with my big word mumble rap insinuations!

I'm wasting away! with mah brain cells, ok? Aim high! i tried! and spared no pains to reach the sky!

 err... reach a new standard! i demanded! it's due time, to self-reprimand!

I still wonder why! you ask! you pry... sigh!