All I want is to work,
Until at some point I may find,
The opportunity to succeed,
In doing what I do best.
Creativity, that art which flows,
so naturally to me composed,
of all the emotions I have yet,
None of which I do regret.
Only then may I find,
A peace that is everlasting,
For this is what my God would give,
To me a gift of words and magic.
That I would put my trust in Him,
By letting go of all so dearly,
held to me like pride and anger,
Replaced with love sincerely.
Now my task is to convince,
My closest family of my joy,
Music, art, and all the above,
And nothing else.
Letting go of all I thought,
I needed dearly, like karma,
and all the stories that weren’t clearly,
Except music, and the red head piano room.
There I lay sometimes in joy,
Others in sadness when my ploy,
Falls to bits because my friends,
forget the way the story bends.
And twists and turns like fortune,
Oh this poem never ends,
And all this time my purpose is,
To express my inner sentiments.
Trust in God.