Inspiration? aral

Was it ever inspiration, did I ever have a muse?

Could my lack of information be a rational excuse?

Did I ever have a target? Did it matter what I said?

Should the words have gone to market or just stayed inside my head?

Was it wrong of me to squander the emotions that I felt?

Is my punishment to wander in a Technicolor veldt?

Did I trample on my calling and conceal some higher truth?

Was it sinful or appalling was it nasty or uncouth?

Did I cause someone, somewhere somehow to suffer in some way?

Was I throwing words at random? Was I knowing what to say?

Had I focused on a problem and avoided the absurd,

Had I truly been reporting on events as they occurred,

Had my images been poignant, had my logic not been blurred

Could a single life be altered by a single, measly word?

But the truth was not the matter, and my youth was not to blame

When the things I hoped to shatter absolutely stayed the same

Was it merely recreation? Was it all a stupid joke?

Could you call it inspiration or was I simply blowing smoke?