It's Got A Soprano's Vibe To It

      After much deliberation. I, Damian DeadLove, being of sound mind and soul have come to a conclusion. I know what every writer has in common now, okay it could just be a theory, but please hear me out here. If anything it sounds cool but I’ll let you be the judge of that.  
 
      Can I get a drumroll, please?? We expose demons and slay them!! Told you it was pretty cool. Now some of you might be saying, “Your just now figuring that out, Damian?” Well I do walk to my own drumbeat, and sometimes I’ve been known to fall out of time. It happens more than I’d like to admit.
 
      The point is we do a thankless job sometimes, not that most of us think of that way, it is our passion after all. Now again some of you might be thinking, “What is this we shit? I hardly know you.” Of course I’m being sarcastic, I do really miss sarcasm a lot sometimes, don’t you? I have a weird sense of humor, but It’ll grow on you.
 
      Think of it this way, all people are born with certain gifts. I’m a poet/lyricist it’s my gift. I can write and I am creative. My dad is good with his hands, building shit, working on cars, things like that, it’s his gift. You wouldn’t want my dad writing you a poem, nor would you want me to build your house, or rebuild your sports car’s transmission. Hopefully we agree so far.
 
      What a gift we have to weave words and tell stories. We're historians with a creative flare. We're therapists to ourselves and others, when they choose to read us. We’re bullshit detectors exposing false narratives that compromise the innocent. We're sex coaches/therapists helping people spice things up in their vanilla world. Bottom line is we're never dull and we constantly spill the truth.  
 
      Even our fiction has more truth intertwined in it, than anything you’ll find on a corporate news outlet. Every writer knows every write has a kernel of their truth in it. And us poet’s and poetess's see and observe everything going on around us.  
 
      We are the eyes and ears of what’s real. We bleed on paper the hurt of this world, and at the same time we’re capable of writing a better world. A place of beauty and equality where every one is loved and cared for by one another. We’re the hopeless romantics who still long for world peace.  
 
      I bitch and moan sometimes, but I mean well. I try to remain hopeful for this world wanting to see the good in it, unfortunately that’s not what I find most of the time. You know what I do? I fucking write about it!! I expose and slay demons.  
 
      It’s the blessing and curse of being a poet or poetess. But I’m not alone, so far from it in fact. You see we know each other well, you and I. I’ve read your words, you’ve read mine. We learned each nuance in the cadence, the flow of the rhyme, speaking in metaphors, that’s our code, our motto, our word, that is our bond.  
 
      This ending kinda has a Soprano’s vibe going on in my head. As it fades to black, exit stage right. Now the theme song’s in my head, how about you?