They say I’m no good–

I shall work harder.

So they ebb me away,

But I cannot go any farther

For my passion lies here

And I have toiled to chase it.

I have moved far

From the alluring baits,

Have closed my eyes

And left it on fate,

For my passion lies here

And I have toiled to chase it.

I can be no good at other arts

They bore me away–though highly paid.

But, do I care more,

If I can tread the path I myself made?

For my passion lies here

And I have toiled to chase it.

I may not be ‘perfect in my passion’

But faithful I am to it

And it too, has been with me.

So, I will grow bit by bit,

For my passion lies here

And I have toiled to chase it.

So for a hundredth time,

I pick my pen

And slit the nerve

To spill the ink again,

For my passion lies here

And I have toiled to chase it.