Luyện nghe bài hát On Artistic Integrity

I toe the line of
Every I place my pen
Upon the page and form the
I but couldn't show 'til then
And to myself I beg the
Why do I masquerade
As one to one and to
Someone else? If I,
Of what the of stating
Openly my might be,
I rant and rhyme and reason
Do I for them or me?
I believe is some merit
In creating for one's
But why place before the
What is best on the shelf?
while I write I do not feel that
What I pen is alone,
Even this be misguided
As are many I have
Who swore, souls, that they possessed
The key to mysterious fate,
Succeeded in some,
But most could tell they did but
On subjects touching vague
cannot be unproven, or,
In place of content, in tongues
Yet know not they're speaking for.
No, I am not so;
I do not feel I
Some force divine, but still I
That I never be content
To hold my tongue when I speak
Or my words to suit the hour
Or pinch a blush upon my
To my joy at love gone sour.
I do not to disappoint
The that others place in me
To lead the way to days,
But dark is all I see.
I work for good, I for hope,
No one can question my
But even those who listen
Can often mistake I meant.
My fear, I've to realize,
Is mainly this: I am wrong,
my perception is askew,
That I write and call it song.
Perhaps I'll question thus,
Discount my merits, thoughts, and
'Tis well, long as I go forth
And see this, my vision, leads.
Strong is she who knows her
And it though she may not please.
Fortunate the
That hears such honest as these.