BAM! Ideas and pictures swarm into my mind
They want me to sketch them
They say use pencil, pastels, and paint
use the colors grey, gold, and green
I listen to them as if they are a dictator trying to take over my brain,
so I draw what's on my mind
I tell myself I'm an artist.

After drawing continuously
the image is unlike the one from my thoughts
It looks worse
I try again and again
but it's still not what I desire
I throw my pencil on the floor and I walk away
I say to myself art takes practice, patience, passion and perseverance
I marched back to my desk,
In my eyes I see a pencil that draws black and white,
but my mom sees it as a pencil of various color
I tell myself I'm an artist.

My mom says its an admirable drawing
But in my mind it appears to be awful as dead flowers
My only critic is myself.
I bring myself down with negative thoughts,
as if there was an anchor tied to my imagination holding me down
I tell myself I'm terrible at drawing
Drawing becomes more unaccomplishable every time
I begin to give up
I draw one more image
Look it over
I tell myself I'm an artist.