My desk may seem a bare empty place
But you do not see
That this bare empty place has meaning to me
My hopes
My dreams
My tears
My fears
You do not see, they are all contained here

It means much to me
Though it means nothing to you
It means much to me
And it should to you too

The work that is done
Is all done with care
How can you not see?
The things that I do there?

The stories written
The songs composed
The art created
They all have happened
By this one scrap of wood
How?
How?
How can you not see?
This one special place
That has meaning to me

You look and see paint splattered about
How dirty you think.
You look and see scratches
You immediately pout
You do not understand what it’s all about

The scratches
The scars
The paint
On the wood
Could have meaning
They all really could

Do you not see that the scratches are memories
Do you not see the paint is artwork
Do you not see that I handle it with care
How could you judge me?
How could you dare?

How could you judge my artwork
My pride
How could you judge the things that I hide

This place is special no matter how you poke fun
I have a special place
Do you have one?
Do you have a place in which you confide?
I do

It means much to me
Though it means nothing to you
It means much to me
And it should to you too

It should matter
Because
You should know I work hard
It looks tattered
It looks worn
So do I
Just
On the inside

You should know
That I
Am more than what you see

It means much to me
Though it means nothing to you
It means much to me
And it should to you too