My imagination turned wild I made you true in my head You were beautiful and kind So perfectly defined Physically so similar But in fantasy, you were divine One of the kind.
I like my mind's craft Not you, you are too human When I see you in contrast You don't hold a flame You are not the same You are not who I crave.
You never hurt me with words, Actions are very just, And you care about me, Not you, but the one in the head You are not even a shadow In his bright light, But he makes me sad too By not existing in this world.
Integrity is a virtue that is a choice to learn and uphold, Not something that we are born with
I shouldve posted this back in July but here we are... This is something that has been weighing on my heart really... I've honestly made strides to be a better person with better integrity in life. I have made alot of mistakes in my life... And there are times where I dont even feel worthy or deserving to be wordsmith. As much as I practice my craft, I always feel like I truly dont deserve the blessings I have when I think of past mistakes. As I get older, it's really dawned on me the magnitude of my bad choices. And I do want to work towards being a better individual. I really fear the day where one of my bad choices will cost me all I love dearly, because now I truly understand and appreciative the writing craft as well as art in general. I've vowed to start again, I'm reading and relearning from the greats and more artists what it means to be an artist. This one is for you, Cessna. I made such an injustice towards you and no words can express my deepest sorrows. But know that I own up to my mistakes, my bad choice and i have learned from the very beginning again. I'm becoming more relentless in studying the written word. I truly want to begin again... I may not deserve such forgiveness but I wanted to make it know at least. I'm truly sorry. I'll keep working on myself and keep moving forward.
someday you’ll learn this craft and the extreme patience it requires, how to savor a word, its conjunction with the one that comes before and after, the combinations that make a verse, a stanza sobering beautiful that it robs your breathtaking sensors, a scar minder to, for god sakes, ****! stop! **** that trip to trite, give us something to shout about