Freeborn ?
Nay ! Born in *******
to the wiles of life
in ways we need to understand .

Only rebel
against the iniquities we bear
as scars across our mental backs .

Freedom is at best
a dream that's dreamed
in the solitude
of howling winds
"as the times they are a'changing"
but never really does

I love the Dandylions  
their yellow manes
the colour of Easter-tide
where the Daffodils give way.

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

It's attributes and texture vague to us,
To him its perfect,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

Like an ornament he keeps it,
With jewels he decorates it,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

For us it seems ordinary,
But to him it holds prestige in ways he can't speak,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

He seems clueless how to describe its charm,
How it feels, he knows,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

To us, it is a paradox,
To him it matters the most,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling.

It's almost redundant
When the needle breaks skin

Art creating art
Defined by hair tied-up
And a mastered craft

Deliberate movements
Of a wrist near broken
Through creative necessity

Many strive to create
Most feel obligated
To spread influence

But there is a something
Different, something strange
In the way one endures the pain

It takes to make
A canvas blank transform
Into something more

Only made tangible
By your will and your
Martyred time

There is something
Incredible
About redundancy

Witnessing art
Self-sufficient

The creative forces
In front of me