A laser light from button gaps,
cannot be contained within the *****,
trench coat men, try to subdue,
but they cannot contain her colorful hue.

Admiration of chisel marks,
I imagine the steel cast sparks,
a stone carved into beauty's eye,
but is it all a lie?

Colors swirl through the spectrum,
I paint with a broken thumb,
lucid dreams of LSD
I grin and laugh with glee.

The scarab beetle walked the palette,
a different hue upon each leg,
on the canvas a path traversed,
art for some, which would beg.

The swing of the hammer,
the splash of gore,
a Jackson Pollack brush
of blood on the floor.