The Resistance is strong today.
It wants me not to make my art.
It tells me no one really cares,
So why show them my fragile heart?
Some wish for my failure, and
Others think I have lost my mind.
And when I know I am a fraud,
Will the others be far behind?
Why waste such a lovely morning,
Why not just sit and meditate?
Why bother with this useless craft
In which my days just dissipate?
Can’t I see the signs, it asks me,
The ink is dry and paper wet,
With power gone throughout the night,
There’s no device, no internet.
Head is splitting from sleeplessness,
The cold is pricking up the gout,
And say these signs had not been there,
What will I even write about?
I smile at my dear Resistance,
And it frowns for a bit, before…
“Oh no, no no, You better not!
It’s not funny at all, señor!”