Museum

I am art.
I am a masterpiece.
They think I am a painting made up by who tell me to be.
They think I am only made by the colors they have decided to touch me with.
They think I am nothing but a simple canvas,
They have chosen to paint and make beautiful.
But they haven't made me the art I am.
And all art creates artists.
But it was I who held the brush to my life.
And I pick the colors.
I am art that will never go down in history.
I am art that will never be in a museum.
But...
What I create will be.

This poem is about: 
Me

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