The Artist

I’m broken to feel complete,

Like mosaic glass, but in concrete,

I’m drawing angels with devilish hands,

It’s better than other plans,

I’m starting to feel the heat...

Writing, seeing red, out of stress,

It’s a mess, under arrest,

The feelings I barely caress,

I felt like I was possessed,

I got a bit daft,

I wanted to inflict my wrath,

Then act out of impulse,

Then I hear the insults,

The thoughts then get me into the blues,

Which then manipulated my hues,

In this sea, I will drown,

Depressions' cinder blocks holding me down,

I’ll have a blank canvas when the paint is dry,

I’ll have to paint it over, I’ll give it another try,

I’ll show some new colors,

Making sure it covers,

Maybe, let’s try some yellow,

I just wanna become mellow,

No rushing, I should take my time,

Myself, I will make more prime,

I shouldn’t just be a work hound,

Or I’ll never feel home bound,

I’ll be in the right mind,

I’ll get out of this tight bind,

With everyone, I try to sympathize,

Inspiring those with poems I synthesize,

Poetry is what I wanna revitalize,

Though, I am not one to idolize,

I feel like I had a revamp,

I’m feeling like the champ,

I want the emotions to stay clean,

I will always be green!

I was broke, but still not complete,

Even if it’s for the moment, it’s sweet,

I can draw demons with angelic hands,

It’s the best of plans,

I hope to make my dreams a feat!