I was blank
But you covered me with sunsets and
Northern lights.
You showed me off to the world as
Your treasure.

As the colors faded,
So did your façade.
You held your paintbrush against my skin,
Coloring me
With black and blue hues,
Until the fumes knocked me out.

When the paint began to peel,
You scraped at my remains
Forcing me to feel
Your hands
On me again,
Until you were satisfied
With your work.

I have no blank spaces left
Except for the one within.

But how does a masterpiece
Leave her master?

I was woven together in my mothers womb,
I was carefully pieced together, like a work of art I went from being a cell to a fully formed being with a beating heart
A slow process of nine months, I was being perfected every detail lightly sketched,
I am a work of art
My mother, such a beautiful face, but in a moments notice that same face became struck with grief
Like a drunk driver speeding on the highway all of these emotions hit her and from those wounds she could not recover,
No, you do not understand she didn't know I was coming, you see that news would come later on
But my mother, my beautiful mother, well, she was ***** and this is where I fit into this story
The visit to the doctor was no easy task,
No, she was torn
Torn between wanting to keep me and also wanting to erase me

MOM!! I GET IT!!
This decision doesn't come lightly, it saddens me to know how much pain this has brought you, how much pain I have brought you
Every single day a new detail is painted, the paintbrush swinging so elegantly, almost like a leaf that flies in the wind
I am a work of art
But you see, my mom, she too is a work of art,
So elegantly put together, the way her hair flows and her eyes tell the story of a warrior,
A person who never stops fighting,
Her eyes so brown like a coffee bean that you smell and instantly smile
That's not even the best part, the best part is the way her lips quiver when she smiles, the sound of her laughter can brighten up any room
She brings people together with just the sound of her voice,

Yeah, you know what? My mom is my hero,
I'm still not here but shes the only world I need to know
She too, is a work of art
Don't you see it?
We are both pieces of art, put together so beautifully that it really is "love at first sight"
I am not here yet, and my mom still hasn't made up her mind,
But I'll tell you this, whether she keeps me or she doesn't that doesn't matter to you
This isn't your story to tell and quite frankly this doesn't concern you,
This song is not your song to sing, so please let my mom take the stage and tell her story through this song

This is the song of a fighter,
The trumpets are roaring,
Her choices are her choices, this isn't your decision to make,
She is both the canvas and the artist,
I am a work of art but my mother, man she's the real masterpiece.

I am a person with a past,
Yeah there are moments I'm not proud of, but they're my mess ups
I could give you excuse after excuse as to why I can't move on but that's all they'll ever be, excuses
It doesn't make any sense to sit here and write this but every moment until now has shaped me,
These moments have defined me
No, they aren't finalizing the person I am to become but I'm a shade darker because of them

I am a person with a past,
With each shade I get closer to being the person I'm meant to be,
I am both the canvas and the artist, this is my story
I was told I'd amount to nothing, and I believed them
With every fiber of my being I refuse to believe this
My failures aren't my future,
Yesterday is a mere memory, and tomorrow hasn't been painted, the only thing that matters is right now,
This moment is all I've got

My past is in the past,
I am no longer the person I used to be
I've grown, believe it or not,
The artist in me wants more, the stars have been aligned and the universe has called out my name

I refuse to let these mistakes follow me,
I chose the path less traveled, the narrow and gold
My past is in the past

Yes we all have a past and there things that we've done that we wish we could take back,
But that doesn't mean we stop living
NO! We keep going, moving forward and fighting,
We fight for what's ours, we fight for a better tomorrow
Your canvas is barley covered and your life has just begun,

So you see, I am a person with a past, present and future,
This story isn't over it's only just begun
I've got this one life to live and I'll live it to the fullest

Petals flew through the wind
among the overcrowded
morning sky.

Patches of clouds splashed
onto the canvas
that’s my sky.

A seemingly perfect picture
really broken pieces
of glass shards.

I've learned how to see
the world like a canvas.
When staring long at the horizon,
the roads flood my vision like paint
running together in a muddy mess.
The landscape changes,
but everything is still the same.

My life is a canvas all bumpy and plain.
Each time I do something, a strike will be made.
If, for instance, I do something cruel, or bad,
Come darkened, black colors to make me all sad.
But then, if I do something happy or nice,
Then comes the rainbow all lovely and bright.

My life is a canvas all bumpy and brown
Each time I step forward, I take a step down.
It's a wondr'ous burden, these colors of mine.
They oft' make me think of hurt and demise.
I try to withstand it the one way I can:
By topping more on-make others feel bad.

My life is a canvas and as you might see,
Doing more evil puts evil in me.
It roars and it bites more often than not
And my only comfort is a small bright spot.
I call him my comfort, my savior, my Lord.
He saved my dark canvas-he saved the whole world!

My life is a canvas and as you may see:
The evil tries to burn me up and take away the key.
The key-my Lord, my savior is always there for me.
Wheth'r dragons bring me down, or others drown me in the sea.
What will you do with your canvas and all your darkest blots?
I beg you to make room for the little bright spot.