This notebook you see
it once belonged to me
with pages of doodles and drawings galore
when drawn on paper with the simplest pen
then ripped and destroyed when seen again
you are not alone, all artists do this
but when, in your work, will you find bliss
others call it 'good'
you'd feed it to your dog as food
even quick little sketches may look their best
you feel like putting you art on trial for death
yes, this is how I felt, so long ago
what future did my drawings behold?
the young man who found them had copied my work
I do not blame him, that rich little twerp
now he is rich, and I am in school
doodling in notebooks, as most students do