I was born a blank canvas,
nothing but white surrounded thier eyes.
i was aweful to look at.
All they felt was pain and despise.
something was missing from me,
and then i understood.
a paintbrush and pen
would be the ones that could
fill the void that stands there
empty and incomplete.
maybe art can define me
and battle this disturbing fleet
of feeling unfinished and bare.
color brought me alive.
and i know now
being an artist will help me survive.
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