You know, I think some people;
Become artists when:
They realize they’ve been running;
Their whole lives searching.
For something to give them a reason to;
Wake up the next morning.
Some become one with their circumstances
And find their place within reach
Suffocating those yet discovering.
One’s life dream could be; a family.
One’s could be just peace from war.
Clean water, CEO or manager:
Designer of Burj Al Arab,
In a forest cabin or a city break
Breaking beds or bending meds
And it could be neither.
It could be going through it all –
Needing to know
That no matter where you are;
If you’re alone or seduced, on a throne
Scrubbing floors or singing shows;
Dragged in alleys, hugging up allies
You will still have a reason to.