I've been told

I've been told artists starve

I've been told to chose a different path

I've been told my dreams are feeble

I've been told art is unnecessary. 

That my words will reach nothing but the paper my pen glides on.

That my paintings will sell for nothing more than the paint I bought to create them with.

I've been told

I've been told

I've been told

But I've never been asked 

What my passion is. 

Because I would answer:

I want to be a starving artist,

with nothing but pen and paper and paint staining my future. 

I want my dreams to be feeble and unncessary.

If it means I can be an artist.