I am an artist,
The pencil my brush,
My blank page my canvas,
And my very soul the paint.
I am a lover,
My essence, my being,
My fleeting defense,
To the feelings of another.
Carving out the picture,
Of a warped nature and reality,
Finding imagination,
Every artist’s tool of trade.
For I am an artist,
The metal my pen,
My sheet my script,
But everso is my very soul my grease.