save the praise and
“appreciate you for holding it down”
i didn’t ask for words
that don’t wipe the sweat off my brow
a spoken thanks
ain’t worth shit to me from the ground
where i’m knee deep in mud
tending to plants you pluck proud
it must be nice when
all you need to do is put on a gown
sewn over years with a thread
that you can’t even pronounce
to take credit for
the notes that i bring to sound
and call yourself a musician
with borrowed tunes in your mouth.