I feel the whip of the pen stronger than the strokes I paint

I  am a training artist

I wonder how many colors and flair are needed until my creations move

I hear it’s voices tellling me i can go beyond my greatest ideas

I see gold branches bridging through teel waters

I want others to peer though my canvas as a window with curiosity

I am an  builder

I pretend that I have no limits only for a moment 

I feel regret when I finish and wonder what should have been done

I touch the air as a conductor when determining how to move space

I worry about losing strength to accomplish a finished fictional reality

I am kicking myself awake with every improvement of my art

I understand I am not to be cocky in a world of vast talent

I say I can still make something only my love can bring to the table

I dream of having my concrete blocks of works by my side

I try again

I hope I can make something of myself

I am just a rookie