Empty Room

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