If I could paint magic on the canvas
I would hold my brush like
a magician hold a magic wand
And would draw something so magical
For people to be dazzled, for people to smile,
Sometimes to fear
And sometimes to cry

But I ain't what it's needed to be.
I'm no artist with color brush.
I'm no magician with magic wand.

I'm just a stranger
Whatever I get, wherever I can
I draw to forget..
Huss!!! It doesn't make me an artist

Cause

An artist is someone who plays with emotions,
Tricks you to smile when you're crying,
Makes you cry when your heart needs to be softened

For me
Everytime I draw an art
I only receive pain and guilt
Happiness from art is like
a pinch of Suger in a salt bag with dirt

How can I be an artist
If I can't draw my own happiness
And weep out my own sadness
Let alone to draw all the emotions for
other business?

I ain't what it's needed to be.
I'm no real artist with color brush.
I'm no magician with magic wand
I'm just a stranger
Whatever I get, wherever I can
I draw to forget..
Huss!!! It doesn't make me an artist
.
.
.

It's nothing good
All the stuffs are useless
No colors, no  brushes
No wand, no magic

Such a plain ife is painfully desired

By Ani
09/02/2024

(It's not good. But I wrote something after a long time. Even it's not good, I feel refreshed and less burdened and happy somehow.)
Thanks for reading it