All artists are born with magic in them,
They use it to create beautiful things out of thin air
Though I've found that none could ever compare
To that of the wonders by your hands

You were born to shape the world
To twist and bend it to your design
I was surprised when you choose me as your canvas
Molded me to perfection and titled it 'Mine'



You once told me that I was your muse
A body so full of untapped beauty
That it was criminal to hide

I told you I know I'm not much
But I'm all yours, so take me
And rearrange me into something worth your love



You made me feel beautiful and I loved the attention
You told me to close my eyes and use my imagination
And when you gave me wings and told me to fly
I did so without any hesitation



If I would've just opened my eyes
I would've seen the truth
An artist lives off the high of creation
And once they've finished they're through

While my back was turned
And I prepared to take the fall
You were off to find another canvas
Another muse to use up

take a look, you may notice
the stolen glow of the hopeless
a photo so out of focus
lower than a golden crocus

but beautiful just the same

going closer, you may notice
soul of a broken closeness
low notes of a solo opus
glowing like a floating lotus

and beautiful just the same

(a golden crocus is a beautiful, low growing flower, but it can be easily over-taken by weeds, and wither...a lotus is my favorite flower, which floats on water, and seems to glow, but would wither without water)