Art In Self
No poet writ for the joy of another's eye,
for the desire clouds your poetry.
What sense is it to satisfy the fellow?
when you writ for others , not self gratification.
Art of words be tossed here and there
but it homes in its wordful owner,
the heart is unbounded by deems and description,
because it only be defined by its heartly artist.
Rich and poor is bestowed with the ability
to portray the colors so lovely within.
Damn the doubtful , impale their questionings
by the hands of GOD they neglect a gift.
We thrive the roads of the lost beings
and our paths will meet whether we want it or not
a wish I have since I was a todd
May I meet the beings , and learn from I, they will.
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