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Only Trying To Help
How do I put a name to it?
I'm speaking of something I love as much as life itself.
A passion, a desire, a heart set on fire.
It makes me so happy, yet it is work and tiny bit of profit could be made.
Not for those who can richly afford.
But those way below this par.
Something so small time.
But something that effects so many lives.
An inner existence in times past.
No rush upon that which is not meant to be done fast.
A mastering of a craft.
Working backwards back to square one.
To where it first started.
Pour the gasoline and watch as it becomes ignited.
Every time I think of this it gets me excited.
I'm always tinkering and experimenting.
I just want to understand it in the way a little child does.
Yet I could never truly claim it as my own, but instead as a gift to share.
As I have done many times before.
But this time I want to be bigger.
I want it to be with the whole world.
Here's a little piece of me for everybody.
Trying deliver the goods beyond my expectations.
Nobody can be a tougher critic then yourself.
I'm only trying to help.
Let these last words sit upon your mind.
For within them can I only be truly be defined.
poem
by
Ace Of Black Hearts
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