So what my heart is bleeding,
All that matters is that it’s still beating,
What counts the most is that I’m still alive,
Even though my soul has died.

You may have taken away my brush,
And now I have to talk art in a hush,
Just because you took my passion,
Doesn’t mean I will turn high fashion.

My clothes isn’t what makes me who I am,
I will still do art even with your little scam,
But I know Oil Pastels make you weak,
And just the thought of paint makes your sight bleak.

I will draw on my walls and get paint on my cheeks,
I speak my mind and mold sculptures like the Greeks,
I am determination have paint wars with my friends,
Who cares about the E news and the latest trend?

But because you took away my life,
I will fight back with all my strife,
Even with my duck taped heart,
I will still live on doing art.