Verse 1: 
You never know your shot at fame is over till it passes 
Till the hourglass is empty and it’s backwards 
And in the vacuum you just wonder how this happened 
As the artist in you now gets enveloped inside a casket 
I’ve put much money and time into this passion 
Never really thought it would end in quite this fashion 
But life is what it is and I’ll never regret the path 
I’m just depressed my art never made it to reach the masses 
Just average, no better and no preferred 
I guess I felt I had something worthy to give this world 
Perhaps it was conceit to have thought I would move the herd 
Ego to think I’d lead to new standard with note and word 
And foolish to believe a new paradigm would spur 
But though absurd I won’t apologize 
I won’t acknowledge my pursuit was just an empty try 
So be advised and have the knowledge from this poem occurred 
This from the greatest artist in the world you never heard 

Well it don’t matter I’m sitting inside an empty room 
Alone with no one present to hear the music boom 
Like Beethoven or Bach without a chance to bloom 
Or for Shakespeare’s words never to be consumed 
I just hope that one day my work will be exhumed 
To infuse with higher levels now un-pursued 
And that maybe the spirit in this will surge 
And turn the world into something in which I’m heard 

Verse 2: 
I’m inside these four walls 
I feel confined by four walls 
Yes, my mind is four walls 
Where [bad word] forth and design rhymes for y’all 
Just my flow, the audio and my pen 
Well, written it’s a 10 
But no audience attends 
Still I can’t give in 
The feeling won’t descend 
I don’t do this just because, there’s a cause I defend 
So the music never ends 
I’m not the caged bird that never sings 
I’m the bird in the cage that breaks his wings 
Trying to escape from where I feel trapped 
So I keep shouting my raps 
The sound waves bouncing back 
It hits my frame, recharges my spirit 
Then clicks my brain, responds with lyrics much stronger than the last 
Some day this sonic blast 
Will cause these walls to crash 
And the mass can be exposed 
To the greatest never known 
Grown by the desire and the fire that inspires real writers 
And to all of them I’ve shown 
That when I arrive they will cheer 
But all the while I’ve been here 
All the while in this square 
Waiting for someone to hear 
Or them just to lend an ear 

Well it don’t matter I’m sitting inside an empty room 
Alone with no one present to hear the music boom 
Like Beethoven or Bach without a chance to bloom 
Or for Shakespeare’s words to never be consumed 
I just hope that one day my work will be exhumed 
To infuse with higher levels now un-pursued 
And that maybe the spirit in this will surge 
And turn the world into something in which I’m heard