I hold this in question,
For I was born lacking a symbol or sign
That I was in fact a poet.
I was born, awkward and scared
With a heart of gold and a head of steel,
Filled with thoughts of paintings and photographs,
Literary works, never considered.
Ubtil that is I learned,
That my artist's mind
Was not combined
With an artist's talents.

Still now I avoid stdying the books,
It stalls personality, as far as I'm concerned.
(And if I was born such a freakin' poet why do I need study?)

However I wasn't born a poet.
And I wasn't born to study.
I was born,
an ungifted artist.
Who writes poetry to paint the pictures he can't
To play the music he never composed,
And to convince himself he's somehow
Fufulling the purpose he was born for.