Artistic gifts
disguised in each line
some rhyme, some won’t
call it a labor of love
a price I pay
to live and be
free
free to say whatever
enters my mind or heart
leave the final blow
to those who believe they know
what will sell in the greed aisle
but I got a view of my own
that can’t be colored
to hide the gray
so go to hell
I’ll share my gifts
have my heart filled with gold
I like to call memories.
I refuse to bend
be broken
mistaken as a fool
I made it this far, that’s cool
so I believe I’m not afraid
of rejection
I’ll just continue to write
share
wait until I’m in my glory days
raise my head up high and shout
I got it made!
Ö
