Blood Rose || A Collection Of my Poetry: Pt. 2

Do you know what it's like, being an artist?

Do you know what it's like, being an artist?

I bet you don't.

Constantly thinking of new concepts for stories, poems, drawings, and paintings

Then trying to create what your mind told you?

To fail in the end because it wasn't what you pictured?

To think of yourself has a failure and that nothings ever good enough?

To be known for your work to get love for it? But it's never good enough?

Do you know how it feels, being an artist?

I bet you don't.

Constantly working your body into exhaustion just to hopefully be something?

To rather waste your life away creating art, so you'll be immortal?

I'm not talented

To know your just fooling everybody and pretending your talented

To pretend your a rising star

But your nothing

And all you can create are stupid poems that convey how you feel.

But you can't write a book.

Do you know what it's like, being an artist?

I bet you don't.

No I know you don't

To work yourself to exhaustion just to have a taste of fame?

What would you do to achieve it? I'd do anything.

It's an endless cycle that is slowly killing me but I can't fucking stop writing because all I want is fame and fucking immortality

So I'll ask again

Do you know what it's like, being an artist?

I bet you don't.