For the millions of rewards
And the credits;
All I deserve but don't own,
For the plays in my archive
And the poems
I create and read by myself,
For the time spent learning
And rehearsing
But still I can't be recruited,
To the broken souls healed
And fed by my ink,
I've named 'talent' a burden.
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Author:
Palm (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: February 9th, 2025 04:20
- Category: Sad
- Views: 25
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
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