My Art

Ok so in relation to my last post i found this poem that i wrote a while ago that HAUNTINGLY describes exactly how I feel 2day and pretty much says my last post just in poetic form...At the time i titled this poem "My Art" sooo thats why this post is that title. might as well right.

so yeah, i don't remember when I wrote this. it was just floating around in the cyber world of my computer.
(P.S...I just thought that the whole "Thinker" pic would go with the post..lol)




My art is that of hailed queens and overrated deities,
they yearn for the product of my creativity,
I am the budding, artistic pleasure that you are clearly are smitten with
and the irony of the situation
is that my art doesnt physically exist.

not hung in galleries, on graced pages of first editions
but is hidden among the subconcious section of this world..
and when I can't create I don't suffer from writer's block..
I suffer from thinker's block,

because whatever my mind conjures is artistic..
the very thoughts that flow to my brain are that of an aesthetic nature
but my thoughts are clouded,
so the door knocking to inspiration has lowered its fist
and honestly its a miss.
Inspiration hasn't visited me,
so now my art lacks..