Verse 1:
You never know your shot at fame is over till it passes
Till the hourglass is empty and it's backwards
And in the vacuum you just wonder how this happened
As the artist in you now gets enveloped inside a casket
I've put much money and time into this passion
Never really thought it would end in quite this fashion
But life is what it is and I'll never regret the path
I'm just depressed my art never made it to reach the
Masses
Just average, no better and no preferred
I guess I felt I had something worthy to give this
World
Perhaps it was conceit to have thought I would move the
Herd
Ego to think I'd lead to new standard with note and
Word
And foolish to believe a new paradigm would spur
But though absurd I won't apologize
I won't acknowledge my pursuit was just an empty try
So be advised and have the knowledge from this poem
Occurred
This from the greatest artist in the world you never
Heard
Well it don't matter I'm sitting inside an empty room
Alone with no one present to hear the music boom
Like Beethoven or Bach without a chance to bloom
Or for Shakespeare's words never to be consumed
I just hope that one day my work will be exhumed
To infuse with higher levels now un-pursued
And that maybe the spirit in this will surge
And turn the world into something in which I'm heard
You never know your shot at fame is over till it passes
Till the hourglass is empty and it's backwards
And in the vacuum you just wonder how this happened
As the artist in you now gets enveloped inside a casket
I've put much money and time into this passion
Never really thought it would end in quite this fashion
But life is what it is and I'll never regret the path
I'm just depressed my art never made it to reach the
Masses
Just average, no better and no preferred
I guess I felt I had something worthy to give this
World
Perhaps it was conceit to have thought I would move the
Herd
Ego to think I'd lead to new standard with note and
Word
And foolish to believe a new paradigm would spur
But though absurd I won't apologize
I won't acknowledge my pursuit was just an empty try
So be advised and have the knowledge from this poem
Occurred
This from the greatest artist in the world you never
Heard
Well it don't matter I'm sitting inside an empty room
Alone with no one present to hear the music boom
Like Beethoven or Bach without a chance to bloom
Or for Shakespeare's words never to be consumed
I just hope that one day my work will be exhumed
To infuse with higher levels now un-pursued
And that maybe the spirit in this will surge
And turn the world into something in which I'm heard
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