i was gifted by god
or so they say
“you’re a natural!” “be a writer!”
my words blew them away

and now I hold my pencil
my passion leads my hands
and as i sit here at my desk I realize
i ******* hate rhyming

you see, i said i hold my pencil
but i really hold my heart
and every verse i write for you i share a little part
of my life, my love, my story, and even now i start

to shed a little tear for we’ll always be apart
i know you’d get me dark star, the artists always do
and though my name is azure, i hate the color blue
and though you’ve got me rhyming, i’ll always hate that too

but you don’t care about my story
you only care about conformity
and so you put pressure pressure pressure
and as you press down on my “pencil”
suddenly i’ve lost the point