The Artist
(poems go here) On the outside I'm strong
But on the inside I'm in Hell
I make subtle cries
But no one who notices will help
With a break in my skin
And a hole in my heart
Without anyone's love
I'm like incomplete art
My body a canvas
My tears are the paint
My scars are all of
the mistakes that I've made
My arms are the brushes
My feet, the tabouret
My heart is the artist
Who is riddled with pain
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