Master, Soldiers, and Stars

There are those that sit down
Smile or frown
And write a decent song
Then there are those
Who can’t write a lick of prose
And just play along
But it’s the ones who are moved
That write the best grooves
And leave you singing all day long

If input must be greater than output
Then these masters have selected the best
While these soldiers keep things close to the chest
And the stars, we all follow their quest.
Is it that they are just blessed?
By some spirits they are possessed?
Or have they refined their finesse?

It’s a delicate balance, this trickery of living
Shifting your weight between receiving and giving
A mind that is creating, perceiving, and reliving
In a world that can be cold, deceiving, and unforgiving.
The master wants to give and be well praised
The solider wants to receive and go about things unfazed
But the star operates in a different realm
A world where he is at the helm
While his neighbors go through their strife
The star’s work defines their life
Unable to operate on the simple plane
No patience or receptors for the asinine and mundane
The seriousness and upset are topics of humor
Not allowed to fester and grow to a tumor
Excellence and meaning are the ultimate thrill
Making culture that gives masters and soldiers a chill

And that makes him superhuman
Not reliant on the resonances of Schumann
Making and molding
Hoping and holding
A better world