I write to develop my ideas,
I write to find a clever line,
It's an occupation for the dreamers,
Whenever they can find the time.
Each day brings something new,
Each day I torture my ears,
But it's up to you to decide if it's good,
This product of my sufferage years.
So I send you my daily work,
So I know that someone cares,
Too, so you'll know you're adored,
After all, I must be fair.
Inspiration is afforded by blood,
Inspiration cannot be subdued,
Much like a feeling -- Love!
Which I hold most of all for you.
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