Tuesday, November 10, 2015


My life is hanging on a wire
for all of you to acquire.

You see all of my ups and downs,
and all the in-betweens.

Today I could be a Melting Clock,
or maybe a Monet,
or maybe I'm a piece that never sells until
my composers death has come.

Why our accomplishments
suddenly matter more in our death,
I'll never know.

Maybe I was agonized over,
but no one ever lived
to see me thrive.

I do hope that I'm not what my composer
worked a lifetime for,
but felt they never did succeed.

If I do have to be a legacy
someone left behind,
hang me high, light me up.
Let everyone see how hard
someone worked to complete me,

because now that I can finally be called complete,
my creator can rest in peace.