My Art my words my inner man, the me that no one really knows.
My Words express what I hear, and what I see.
The Images I paint bleak, dark yet bright, quiet yet loud. Yelling to the crowd.
My Scene screaming look at me My Art, My Words, My Outer shell My Hiding eyes. I am compelled.
To Break the mold the iron shell the ideas in which society dwells will not be mine I ma myself.
My Art is me, and I am it within itself.