I am a poet, and write prose;
I am a singer and remain mute;
I am a vagabond in fashion's clothes,
A roamer who needs must take root.
I am duty bound and honor chained,
Toiling at the mill of Daily Bread,
Doing what comes to hand to do
That others may be comforted.
But it's hard at times to bow the knee,
To bend the back with a good grace,
To stand and watch the dreams go by
With a smiling face, a smiling face.
For I am but poet, lover, child,
With a wild heart and gay,
And I would be free as the winds are free
Just for a day!