Don't You Know It

I am a writer to most

TO that I will raise my glass and toast

It is a passion which I never hope to lose

Which will stay if I always have a muse

Sometimes I have no energy and feel so uninspired

But those are moments when I am only tired

I could write anything if you give me some time

I can make rhymes if you just give me a line

So poetic and missunderstanding

Not sure how this one plans on ending

It is like a chaotic tragedy inside my head

Which word or phrase will wind up dead

It has been a battle and I have the wounds to show

Secrets hidden behind closed doors that no one will ever know

My focus is the rhyme, its the devotion

As long as it has a beat inside my heart; a forever motion

Sometimes the pasth these words follow is sick

Sometimes my words seem like such a trip

I think faster than these hands can write

But it is okay, rome wasnt built in one night

Those who know me know me as a poet

Now that you have heard this, Don't you know it?

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