Luyện nghe bài hát On Artistic Integrity

I toe the line of
time I place my pen
Upon the page and the words
I felt but couldn't show then
And to myself I beg the
Why do I thus
As one to one and to
Someone If I, afraid
Of what the consequence of
Openly my cause be,
When I rant and rhyme and
Do I write for or me?
I believe is some merit
In for one's self
But why before the public
is best left on the shelf?
Though while I write I do not that
I pen is mine alone,
Even this could be
As are I have known
Who swore, poor souls, that they
The key to mysterious fate,
in convincing some,
But most could tell they did but
On subjects touching something
Which be unproven, or,
In place of content, in tongues
Yet know not whom they're for.
No, I am not so;
I do not feel I
Some divine, but still I know
I shall never be content
To hold my tongue I would speak
Or change my words to the hour
Or pinch a upon my cheek
To my joy at love gone sour.
I do not to disappoint
The that others place in me
To the way to brighter days,
But sometimes is all I see.
I work for good, I for hope,
No one can my intent
But even those who close
Can mistake what I meant.
My fear, I've to realize,
Is mainly that I am wrong,
my perception is askew,
That I shyte and call it song.
Perhaps I'll question thus,
my merits, thoughts, and deeds
'Tis well, as I still go forth
And see this, my vision, leads.
is she who knows her mind
And it though she may not please.
the audience
That hears such thoughts as these.