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I cannot dare look down at the marks; That I have casted upon myself. I am a canvas with paint splatters of abuse, I mistreated the use of my brushes. I am starting to become careless with the color red, The red paint is everywhere now showing my dread. I have committed a crime against thee canvas, Now I am becoming anxious with taking my chances. It would be best if I was handless, Then I wouldn’t be listening to this sadness and destroying my precious canvas. I am a bandit, Taking and letting things slip away. Slowly I am losing this art battle, But I am starting to not become a sore loser. Worry is no longer getting the best of me, I shall not be afraid of the blackness of defeat. Wish me the best. Applause me for my wonderful art work, Because I gave you exactly what you wanted, Can’t you see? I followed your exact instructions. I have a lifeless canvas, that is white as a sheet, Though I colored all over it. This plainness came with some practice. Oh I am so sorry, my canvas just landed on the hard floor, I seemed I couldn’t appreciated it enough, So now I must bid you a due now.
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Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 5:52 PM UTC
An Artists Depression
I cannot dare look down at the marks; That I have casted upon myself. I am a canvas with paint splatters of abuse, I mistreated the use of my brushes. I am starting to become careless with the color red, The red paint is everywhere now showing my dread. I have committed a crime against thee canvas, Now I am becoming anxious with taking my chances. It would be best if I was handless, Then I wouldn’t be listening to this sadness and destroying my precious canvas. I am a bandit, Taking and letting things slip away. Slowly I am losing this art battle, But I am starting to not become a sore loser. Worry is no longer getting the best of me, I shall not be afraid of the blackness of defeat. Wish me the best. Applause me for my wonderful art work, Because I gave you exactly what you wanted, Can’t you see? I followed your exact instructions. I have a lifeless canvas, that is white as a sheet, Though I colored all over it. This plainness came with some practice. Oh I am so sorry, my canvas just landed on the hard floor, I seemed I couldn’t appreciated it enough, So now I must bid you a due now.
ad-snail-spirit
Written by
Gender Fluid
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 5:52 PM UTC
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