I start off with a day with much rain,
Untangling my headphones, with so much pain.
I prepare my mind and body ready,
And make myself, a little steady.

Next to my room, I approach that fresh new paper,
Now, I’m almost ready to make a new wallpaper.
On the desk, I feel the sharp texture of the canvas;
I just need to reach out for my pen, right from my canthus.

Sitting on the desk, while I’m having an art block,
My brain gets hit with ideas, with a shock.
But now, my stuffy head has to rethink,
Right before, my hands are gonna ink.

I receive texts from Instagram, Facebook and Twitter,
But I don’t have time for all that chitter.
As I swing my pen around,
Annoyingly my eraser falls to the dusty ground,

I can feel me being quite stressed,
But, I don’t want my drawing to be messed.
Soon, I will feel the hard pressure,
On my middle finger; the pain is the pleasure.

My body starts to get hot and it sweats,
And all my fingers already turned red.
I keep on sketching, but the lead is blunt,
With a rush, everything falls; it’s like a stunt.

With a loud voice, I hear my mother calling for me,
I don’t wanna stop, but now, I have to pee.
I tell her, I don’t want to eat dinner,
“Keep on drawing” tells me my inner.

I couldn’t resist, I got called from my bathroom,
I sprint to my room and my eyes start to bloom,
Now begins the detailing process,
And this part requires patience of chess.

But what it this? I wanna cry,
It’s a mistake but it’s already dry.
I can’t fix it,
Oh wait I forgot, I got my white ink kit.
Thanks to the Lord, my hope is back,
Oh what’s wrong? My stomach needs a snack.
My time runs away,
And almost done is the day.

Now I grab my other tools,
The color pencils, markers and the pastels on the stool.
I give some life to my treasure; trying not to make a mistake,
If so, oh how would my heart break.

Once again, I’m stuck, time flies,
From the window, I see the moon rise
For the final, I adjust my sign,
And my drawing, turns out perfectly fine.

For the very last, I keep staring,
Then I find some flaws, but no one’s caring,
It’s still a good painting,
The important is, the improvement I’m gaining.

I pack everything away and clean up,
Grab some tea and a huge cup,
Breathe deeply and clear my mind.

I add the drawing to the binder,
Someday, I’ll see it again, as a reminder,
For how much time I spent,
On the things, which meant a lot to me.

Now I’m done,
That was the fun,
That’s why, I adore being an artist,
And not, a lazy artless.

I reach out for my bed,
My body now, is spread,
Thinking of what I’ll be drawing next,
Is quite a big vex.