12-8-2014
It’s so obvious that I’m doing something extremely wrong
And it can’t be blamed on writing a silly poem or a really stupid song
It’s got to be something that hides behind the façade of my core
I keep pushing the edges of artistic and scientific reality
but I need to do more
Than I start to question what I’m supposed to believe
And then it hits me in an area where I just don’t care
Smack dab in the wallet and the large empty air
A quantum void that thinks my protons should bleed
Something is missing in the program I’ve selected
And it makes me wonder what exactly I’ve neglected
But simply doing the work doesn’t create much fun
IF
I can’t even afford to pay my rent
The direction I travel just makes me wonder where I went
And then I remember what I haven’t been told
Of course one needs coin for the basic supplies
But it can’t be the goal when seeking the spiritual wise
And I wish I could blame it on this stupid poem or song
But it’s bigger
And
it’s stronger
And beats me down every time
There is no money in a white man’s rhyme
And then I hear those same people say
I hate that song
You are doing something wrong
Please make it short
I’ve got to move along
I’ve gotten help from family and friends many times before
But that one big patron
Just hides
Behind an unseen door
That’s its
just
Me
Being
Me
That’s not good for keeping a positive point of view
So I always turn it aroundAnd
Blame it on
You
Why should you take an interest in what I’m trying to
achieve
When you aren’t even sure in what I believe
I’m the one not making it perfectly clear
So I’m the one who creates the fearWhile asking others to stand and cheer
And that emotional devotional hodgepodge of random semi awareness
Results
In a personal cosmic unfairness
I blame others for not seeing who I am
And who I amMight not be who I thought I was
And that might be based on
Just
Because
There is no simple answer to the questions I seek
So I dance behind the curtain of the poor and the bleakI don’t over spend and I don’t throw it away
But when it comes to making money
It’s a game I can’t play
I rationalize the poverty by saying look what I’ve done
But after everything is accounted forIt’s not really fun
I make beautiful designs with extreme color and flow
and some of them even have a unique type of glowTo ask others to help pay my way is really not my goal
But it keeps playing out that way and it’s hurting my soul
If what I make doesn’t pay the rent
Then it’s time to look down the road from where I have
wentAnd stop and question the very nature of my being
Which when one does that it’s to the past one must cling
I don’t like the thought of looking back to see where
I’ve been
I’d rather go forward and create a new trendSomething that is different in style and design
A unique way of maneuvering between the walls of mind
And it can’t be blamed on writing a silly poem or a stupid song
It’s got to be something that hides behind the façade of my basic core
I keep pushing the edges of a not so obvious reality
but it’s perfectly and wonderfully clear
that
I
need
to
do
more
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