I'm writing a book
The one you already read
The old man told me
''I don't know about you, boy
You look messed up in the head''
That's why I write
That's why I make
The person I am
The person I create
The mirror painted in gray
It's not easy to hide
I just look away
Living in this cruel world
Was not my choice
I'm a song writer
Without the voice
I'm an artist
Of this classic trend
I'm vick-o-mac
Until the end.
Victor Osorio
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/verzion-one/
