if I could teach myself to write:

begin with truth, honestly with each line,
may all you show call true to men’s hearts—

to be just with all you utter,
you find force in every letter;

what you seek must be true
to ever truly guide—
let function breed form,
then nothing will hide.

standing bright you show light,
but to push you lose sight;
to know, glow, grow, flow—evolve,
point to the sky,
to prove a point, resolve;
to move the heart, aim high—

let your praise stand strong and pure,
but never out of reach;

let all who’ll read feel sure:
your aim is not to preach.
speak firm with what you hold,
what you have and always know,
then, dare to be so bold
and give the direction to go—

have whatever you despise
seem to never meet your eyes;
a word’s a way to worlds,
so fly high you through the skies—

and know: the sweetest sounds to you,
to the world, may be new,

so give them like gifts,
golden-wrapped, and honest, true—

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