Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Why I Write, Part x+63: The Price of Art

These bitter words I'm tasting:
"You're a waste of air."
I'm paid less than I'm wasting,
But more upset that I care.

Why court praise from folks
Who prefer I dress formal?
Morally speaking, I prefer their reproach.
When I act normal,

I'm playing my scripted part.
I know the acting isn't good.
I should know the price of art
Is to be misunderstood,

But it seems that all my pursuits solitary
Haven't killed all my passionate human.
It's time to re-study what I tried to bury.
I guess I'll get exhumin'.

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