We were told we're free, for we choose freely.
Eve believed; we too, are as desirous.
Creators urged us, to choose their choices,
Our preferences influenced, they believed.

Blind men, unsure, step to step, staggering
Knocked down and pierced, in circles wandering.
Pain, inevitable, but they rejoice,
For free they are and they'll walk, each their choice.

will supersede innate character,
if such a thing, in fact, exists.

consider every infant enters
the world essentially a blank journal.

you might say the quality of the paper
will determine the ultimate value

of the chronicle, but who could argue
that the words to be imprinted there

matter more? if one scribbles
******* on vellum, it remains *******.

take a child by nature gentle,
teach him to excise insect wings

and reward him for such behavior?
he’ll run off in search of butterflies

with no regard except, perhaps,
pride at leaving his indelible stamp

on the natural realm. dear ones,
instruct your youngsters well.

there are tears stinging her eyelid,
so many emotions are whirling round and round,
and her heart clenches as she looks ahead.

but when she looks into her future,
she sees nothing,
and she wonders.

for if she deserves one,
as someone so silent,
who cannot seem to find her voice.

and she ponders,
if she has the will power to influence,
or whether she will fall apart.

The true meaning of being an Artist is not just to captivate, or capture someones attention. It is to create art that inspires others to be creative.  -KL

You choose the influences that guide your life's steady stream.