Many don't know the moral of Vincent Van Gogh.
We as artists don't mind the pain,
Of cutting off an ear.
We only notice how it hurts,
When our gift is rejected.
There's all to win,
When giving your all,
Yet when giving your all,
There's a great chance you fall.
Pride wasn't made a sin, of itself.
It was deemed evil,
When we witnessed the destruction,
From a broken sense of pride.
We give as much as we can,
I do as much as I can,
A perfect person.
After preaching against it I know she was right,
I am only a hypocrite,
Still searching for that perfection,
Has left me to become only a suggestion.
Giving,
Giving relieves and giving builds,
But giving takes resources,
When those resources run out,
My body runs,
Dead.
