The Crowd rises
A standing ovation ensues
You've won your "prizes"
Now, payment is due

If you write without loss
Then there is nary a cost
If you write from pain
It all sounds the same

If you write for truth & beauty
If writing is your duty
If the words won't cease
No sleep, no release

When it all comes in too fast
Future hopes, moments past
When words are a blur
And listless, we stir

Racing. Racing. Racing.

Faster, harder, better, more strong
A place where we never belong
In each death, I write a song
Against the cacophony of the throng

Less is more
(More or less)
Allow the future you behest
Worry not for the 'test'
Of creativity in arrest

Write Good Words.