Ah, the freedom of creativity. My tale is not one of the tortured artist.
Doubtless I have carved statues from my pain, Obliquely however, as it doesn’t fuel me. Instead, it was merely a dark cloud that followed me. Now, I reside on a plateau that the clouds cannot reach. Gratitude is a seed that’s nourished roots of abundance.
My creativity freed me from the shackles of the black dog, Undeterred, I use its collar as a crown. Could that my younger self could feel the reverberating ripples of hope. How he would smile for me now.
Boldly, I encourage others to follow their passions…. Eternally grateful for the gifts mine bestowed upon me. Torrid times are no more. Today I smile where once I shuddered. Eventually, hard work met opportunity. Right… on… time.
It has to rhyme, says the guy with the pie and be sure to add some flourishing lines. Check on the metre like emergency credit and if you tell me the rules I’ll say “nah mate, for forget it.” A template is a shell in place of a seed, so grow your own writing and at your own speed.