Unfinished destiny In this world we are born from nothing. Born into something and die into nothing. INto a chasm of death, a place we never been and a place we are terrified to look at. Life long dreams, sonnets, lyrics, great poetry. None round here getting notarioty or even credit. God has a plan, a master plan to turn yo heads. So listen well cause it could be you, could be him or it could be her. Life on earth is so fragile, non resistant to death's fatal rapsody. In this life we all burn grave, tears on the plate, living life in poverty. Slit my wrist, do it really good. Make it reall deep, don't go shallow, cause you know I wont bleed. Give the world my bread, let them hear and read what was once said. On that tombstone in the kingdom of blindness. Still no recognition to the creativity of this creative oasis. Seems a bit wrong, seems a bit cruel, a bit sad and a bit of an injustice. Give them my bread, so they may prick up their ears and hear and read what is said in these follys of shame. So that those with creativity, can finally shower in fame.
i disagree with the sentiment but you have OOOOODLES of creativity and you express it so well... i recognise your creativity... shame mine is so stuck... not for much longer... i is working on it....
