An artist's tool is forever held
Within my blackened ink
All these words, they're mine, you know
These lines you couldn't think
These emotions you could not have held
Within your rap or rock
You breed such lesser meaning
Yet poetry you mock
I told you that I wrote one
A poem for my Dad
Who passed away, and left me here
And you shall simply laugh
I told you that a wrote one
A poem, so depressed
And you shall sit and stare at me
And make my life a bigger mess
I told you that I wrote one
So different I must be
I must be a loser now
I write this poetry
But I will not give up my love
For a hollow thought or two
I will not have ignorance
From a thought thus spawned from you
I will not dispatch my love
And sail along to Hell
Emotionless, I'd stand with you
And fall into your spell
You shall laugh at poetry
But poems are my cure
where I reside in sickness
I confide in my own words
You shall finish laughing
And I will laugh right back
I don't need to hide my words
Or lie of them, infact
I can speak my mind, aloud
And my soul is free to roam
Hidden, thus, you mock my heart
While yours is turned to stone
 
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