Life of a Writer (My Secret Sin)

Tear by tear, year to year Day by day Memories they all fade away Tear by tear Voices in my ears Words may lay Promises are all there’s left to say I may wade through volcanic vaults My peers never picture me painted at a hault Jaded memories are tainted, lost and caught A chance given to blow it A new set of balls, just living to grow it I’ll never faulter or kneel down to cry at the alter Through adversity It seems my surroundings curse at me And even if I feel an emotional down I couldn’t bare it in front of you So much commotion Just to share something as blunt as the truth The withered bed our readers have made for us Through every line, Scritch, scratch, or mixed up batch They forever adore us As if their thank you letters or “Congratulations you put together a good poem,” Could bore us What’s worse than being beaten by tabloids? Extension cords Checks with giant letters that say “VOID” Of course baring the voice of being a lord For never having more than we could afford Beef and battles Is better than fagots on relief and saddles The ocean is open and blue But nature won’t let you paddle And perhaps, we’ll die And for us our peers will forget to say goodbye Never to be remembered When we reach those golden gates Just pray that we are a member