If I were to choose to write a song,
Should I be able to find the notes?
I’ve not been musical my life long,
Whatever that knowledge connotes.
I was never arty; now I’m a painter
Who knows what life holds in time.
Time doesn’t stop, no restraint here,
Thus, over time, I learned to rhyme.
I am always looking for the reason,
Although, I also try my very best.
Very, in sense of truth not treason.
Lying to myself, I will fail the test.
See more of my creative offerings and opinions at:
The Extra Mile
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