Do you know
I stood at the ulter
But I stood , and I learnt
And i bowed to my alter
It was hard and I hurt
Non The less I was tried
But I was tried to my will
I stood and showed falter
But was never stood by fail


I am not qualified to define what I mean
I am juvenile in my shackles of ignorance
I must confess I have not studied as one
Is expected to, for there perspective to
Have an inherent trust to them self to
Believe it is there heaven to join to belive this there father to ask that it is there brother
That did not Baer your wheight
But showed you that you could hear your own

This was the essence of all my babble
From and uneducated mind . All I ever wrote or expressed did not come from rational deduction, I’m sorry some may have thought I was intellectual. Oh no ! I felt I trusted my heart my spirit to be hounest to me ! And though I did and am sure I will fail That innocence again. I know I did not write to write , i wrote because I believed I see something exceptionally fresh and not that I’m the first to see in me I’m the first to see with my own eyes and dream
Things I’ve said ideas and things are not undiscovered I’m not prolific
I’m ignorant and naive
I expressed not new it’s was
Painted one a thousand canvases before
But I painted with my colours
You see I bled but not in threatened gains
No I bled in depth I bled in paint I bled in fear I bled in praise
you see I bled and it bled
And both sides were grace
© Sean Windsor