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