I used to speak my mind
But I was always losing it
Now I keep it in
But now no one knows me

Reach but you shall not attain
The glory of a great writer
Never will I gain
For I write but I am not a writer
So I only feign
And now I weep for I can not be a writer
All my work is mundane
But I desire to be a writer
And will continue to go through the pain
Though I will never reach the hight’s of a writer
I will go until I wane though all call me insane
All to be a writer
All to be a writer

My life what a pitiful site
My words what a bland write
My mind what a muddled thing
My heart what a sorrowful being
My hands what tools of mischief
My life how brief

It is the way of life
For even my beautiful wife
Shall one day grow old
So do not be so bold
Nothing will stay as it was set
All empires were crushed out like a cigaret
So why do you think that you should last?
Or that the glorious morn should hold fast?
The flower of the field will fade
And as Frost once said
“Nothing gold can stay”
All will eventually fade away.

To your alter I go now
At your feet I do bow
I know not why, this, you would allow
And I ask not how
This will glorify you now

I only sing holy, holy, holy
For I know you are worthy
I know you are sovereign
And that you plained my pain
All for your gain
So I worship you now
And all at your feet I lay down

All this trouble is come now
And all of it you did allow
I know not but will glorify you now
For you will work it for good
And later it will be understood

I wore my heart on my sleeve
In the morning she was wearing shirt
She took it home
And never brought it back