A Poem About The Struggle Artists (And Synonymously,Intelligent People) Go Through.
I Don’t Need The Stress, Am I Under Arrest?
Here Are My Hands, And Here Is My Mind
If You’ve Come To Take Me In, You’re Wasting Time
While You Take Away, I Give Away Signs
I Paint Them In My Head, And Give Them To Strangers
You Cant Stop Me From Spreading My Canvas
Crazy, Maybe, But I’m Still More Sane Than You
Freedom of Expression, Always Free To Lose
I Take Mental Pictures of My Surroundings
Giving Them More Than Just A Superficial Meaning
The Air Is A Catalyst For Creativity
Breathe In The Colors And Witness The Proliferation
The Distinguished And Unequaled Individuality
The Elaborate Sensations of Humble Hostility
Broken Down By Sensitive Beginnings
And The Zeal of A Perfect Impact
Brace For This Moment And Brace For Persecution
The Death Penalty, Chair Electrocution
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