Mechanical Words

Your words in print reveal you, but not who you used to be.
You swore an oath you would'nt change, “Money will not change me."
No one knows what really goes on; in the subconscious mind,
But I know who you used to be, I’ve watched you change with time.
Your words, they would come easy, you set your pen and they’d flow
But now you are commercial, fame is all you know.

With deadline stress you worry, pace away the night; drowning in self pity,
Here’s why you can't write:

Forced words have not an audience, whores for a bottom line sum
Words of love, those of the heart, live for all time to come.
These are words that make you rich, but not with a profit line.
Your riches? That's the wisdom granted by father time.
Go back to the simpler days, the way you used to be,
Write your words for the things you love, and then read your work to me.
I will store them as I always have, here within my heart,
you won't need anyone but me, to proclaim your work is art.