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Rated: E · Prose · Experience · #1504130
To realize your own gifts.
There was a time, yes a time. When I wanted to be something

grand, oh yes, something so grand. And I knew the world would

know me, and they would sing my songs, and learn my theories,

and stare in rapture at my art. They would all wish their bodies

to bend and move as mine did, and they would feel inspired

when I spoke. In all of the world, no one would be able to compare.

And yet, it was then that I found myself, driving an unforgiving

road, listening to you sing, and I knew I would never inspire as

you do. No one could ever hear my words and want, as your

songs make me, to be alive, so alive. And when a thought finally

crossed me, and I raced to save it to memory, my glory was

fleeting. A match lit in the wind, my ideas glowed vibrant and alive

only to turn black before my eyes. The smoke of my dream drifted

from me, too lazily, and it didn’t even care. I lost this race with you

again, and you didn’t even know you were running.

         I found myself left alone with gems of words that gleamed

only slightly. I have only words, only words, to melt into sugar

and spin into something tall, and lean, and elegant.

And I will make them into something grand, so grand.



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