I can be anything you want me to be

I can be your love under the sycamore tree

I can be white, I can be black

I can die by suicide or a heart attack

I can be life, I can be death

I can fight The Man until my final breath

I can pretend to be versed in matter politic

I can understand God though my perception's arthritic

I can travel among those by war displaced

I can live a life of philanthropy or one in disgrace

I can remember all that I've done

I can forget all my days under the sun

I can tell truths you'd rather ignore

I can lie I you ask me if I think youre a boor

I can run from my troubles that threaten to end me

I can wallow in sadness, a spiral descending

I can be sketchy, I can be confused

I can live in a way with honor suffused

I can be a terror, a living nightmare

I can dwell in darkness, a place where I'm scared

I can escape from my fate, defying the stars

I can play beautiful music for just four more bars

I can be a writer, live out my dream

I can sell my soul for a little more green

Until I publish the work that you all find obscene.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

last line may have already happened

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tallsquirrelgirl's picture

Haha, I actually really like this one!

Nice rhythm and idea, like it!

*tallsquirrelgirl* she feels in italics and thinks in CAPITALS ~henry james