The Aspirations Of Me

My life, what a mess

So cluttered and unkempt

So many things

Which catch my eye

So many things

Now gathering the dust

Dust of time

As something new

Has again caught my eye

Forever I'll be

A painter of pain

A writer of the soul

A dreamer of dreams

Of all that could be

But endless devotion

Would come up shy

In all the aspirations of me

And the things I could be