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No Apologies

Rumour has it that you write There are many amateur critics ready to put you down You don't have to apologize for your life style, for your work for anything you do When the summer begins to die Feel the winds of September in your bones Let your creativity grow like a late-blooming flower Now you feel only the wind It doesn't judge you It frees your spirit from the stifiling heat Let the sound of trumpets Reach your soul Pick up a pen Tell them your hopes, wishes, dreams Let the critics talk You are the flowing river of magic words

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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