Soul

I read about these people These wonderful, beautiful souls I wonder how I'm supposed to muster Up the courage to make my own. Because all of these artists, Their inspiring words and acts, They make all their marks and say what they will, And it makes it hard to relax But maybe, just possibly I shouldn't be slacking like this I should rise against and take a stand For the ones who can't find our bliss Our art is our being, It's all anyone really has When the world is ending, and we're all dying, Our art will never come to pass.