Symmetrical crosshatch
A painting of pain
The very ink
Runs through my veins
I told you I'm a work of art
The artist has torn me apart
Torn in pieces, I'm worth much less
I bare the mark of panicked stress
I sit in this crowded gallery
Waiting for someone to notice me
And glue my pieces one by one
Back to the way that they'd begun
But who could admire such an abstract piece
I'm beyond surpisingly unique
Sloppy and messy and torn down the middle
Gathering dust now little by little
I'll sit in my corner since it's all I have
How could something so beautiful turn out so bad