My life is which one says lacks substance,
Yet my creativity is of abundance,
So why are talents bestowed to me,
If actions to prove it are nowhere to see?
A lovely lifestyle my mind does seek, but future endeavors makes confidence bleak.
So what is a pianist without ivory to play, just a man with some rhythm but no means of pay?
How can I tell you my mission here, if you've already bandwaggoned, your mind has been steered!
But I'll try nonetheless, you can tag along, so listen close while I right your wrong.
YOU ARE READING
Figuring out what's what
PoetryThis series will take readers suggestions and turn it into poetry that delves into such topics, such as "Where do you go when you die?" Or "How can I be more productive?" All questions must be open-ended. Enjoy!
