
THE HOARDER'S CLARIFICATION
I’m not all sad!
I promise I’m not
But every time that feeling comes ‘round—
The one that turns everything black
The one that shuts me down
I have nowhere to turn except for the void
And that is creation.
No longer filled with toys
Creation is something different, something mystique
It’s something real big and funny
And sometimes tragic
But some nights I’m in Amsterdam
With sore lips and muffled anxiety
And for the first time ever
I’ve put glitter on my face
A small gesture it seems
But the insecurity went away, and the gold came out to shine
And I loved it, every inch
Sweet as cherry wine
In these moments I dance
In these moments I write
In these moments I sing
These moments I delight
There are no rules or strings wrapped around my waist
And so I say take your mark and make haste!
There’s worlds to explore, oceans to dive
Theatre to create and it all happens live!
That’s the wonderful thing, about art
You never know what will die then and there, or what will play the part
Spread wings, take flight, right over to Scotland
And then I’ll come home with 5 art classes
And that was always my dream
A home where I learn
A home where I grow
Where I can play and fuss and fail and rush
So I must emphasize again, one time for the books
We mustn’t forget to play, ‘less the weary night looks