My Credence Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

No bother just explaining it without really explaining it.
Its Metaphorically Speaking
Metaphorically preaching.
Its my candle I light every night.
Not yours or the authors.
So to burden someone with something I can carry.
Why I ask?
No I will not share the bag of bricks.
For guilt burns, hot to the touch.
Carrying a coal as if its my own soul.
Maybe it is.
We are all victims.
To that which what I call life.
It hands us cards and tell us to play.
I doesn't have to be fair or equal.
We just have to do the best with what has been dealt.
Like it or not who we are is who we are.
We can't change
but only make it better with each heart felt letter.
I have my words
Just as he does.
I'm not jealous or envious, for doing it non stop is torturous.
Because I do it too, but I need it as this feeling that I have keeps me going. Like I was always meant to do this.
Cursed with this side ways verse.
I see it backwards hovering in the air.
Its just up there.
It stares right back at me.
And then comes to my finger tips, or my lips, or a pen moves to the paper with strokes so fast.
So in a sense it will never come to pass.
For it is how this talent was created.
What is given can be so easily taken.
So I must use it every day.
Even if it hurts.
My time, my pleasure to unending measure, so mistakes won't be repeated. Great is my credence.