A ludicrous sticker placed on

individuals who so call themselves,

‘Masters of the craft.’

 

The existences of masters, require the

existences of slaves to the craft.

‘I am the slave of the craft.’

 

Unwillingly, I give away, from my arms,

my infant craft I toil to create.

My children sold for economic greed.

With no choice, but to survive this new

world's society.

 

But, unknown to my sight, but by speech, they

are dissecting my children for gluttonous bellies.

Treating them in poor conditions, letting the

thievering pirates take credit for the creation of

these infants.

 

Abuse and rape to my creations, in horror

I must stand and watch like a Goddess and God.

I cry, I drop to the floorboard, and I scream, scream,

Scream in exhausting blood and mess.

 

To a mundane, a very extreme disclosure of a

novice artist. Agree. Struggles of an artist are

no longer existing. That’s a lie.

 

Never accept the ludicrous sticker, for the sake

of your children.