I Keep All of my Paintings in my Bedroom
I can sit in bed all day
Write stories of love,
And every expression of emotion
Is guarded up; soliloquy.
And I can listen to the others
While they talk about theirs.
But before I speak, remind myself
Nobody really cares.
When will my time be?
The sun is out,
My hands still shake like winter.
I need to take my shoes off, and
Walk barefoot for a change.
Oh, where is my integrity?
Is there, somewhere, a better me?
Now I’m standing in the front
I know my expertise,
I love what I do and I love my results,
So I feel my pride with the door shut
What if I’m conceited?
It opens, my showcases close
Someone else can do better, nobody wants to see.
And sure, they’re in their underwear,
But they’re still looking at me.
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