Remain in the Distance

expressing excessive...said once an amateur
too inept to be elected into elite status..writing a mess
a method of the creative, pertinent to the message

he's messin' with time, poor boy with rhyme and no substance.
If they only knew I write for sustenance...
can't live and hopeless without it..

I guess they can't see passion, and the fire that burns with words loud, vehemently proud with great diction.
I ignore it, and write on with riches...

my narratives like an orchestrated symphony..
mistaken for rubbish, but they trash is my treasure
and I continue to rummage...not cyclically..buy since these things led me to think..no plummets, just summits.

Author's Note

what do you think?