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The Artist

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It did not come overnight but with years of development.
The time put in was well worth the beauty that came out.
From the rhythmic beet of the ball bouncing and the sudden squeaks of my shoes,
To the crowd cheering at my every move.
I conduct my own orchestra.
With the quick footwork, leaps and twist,
I perform my own ballet.
The sweat pouring down my body,
With passion and fire portrayed through my eyes,
And my arms victoriously lifted high in the air,
I paint my Mona Lisa.
But this piece of art is never ending, never dying,
And I will be this artist forever.





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