I would like 
to have the ability to produce beauty 
of a caliber so high 
a drug test of it would come back positive

I would like
 to produce beauty with the pain of realizing 
you’ve been living in a box your entire life 
and what you thought were stars are just glow-in-the-dark stickers

I would like
 to write something so intelligent 
you’d question your whole existence 
and then some

I would like to have the ability to paint the world 
as accurately as a laboratory analysis

I would like to produce beauty
But everything I produce is as painfully average as I am