MESS, I, HUH?

there are people in my family, that look down on me for the choices i make, and how i live my life, despite the fact that it is my choice, and i am happy.

i have volumes of art that prove my worth to my muse, my heart, my G-d.

but they tell me to sell myself for money.

then they go on sundays, once a week every week

and worship a homeless poet.


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