He's an artist
like no other,
with a
r
a
z
o
r
as a paintbrush
and his own
skin
as his canvas,
he only paints
straight lines,
t
a
l
l
y
i
n
g
himself all over
until all he can see
Is red.
YOU ARE READING
Diary of a Dreamer
PoetryThey say you're a dreamer Cause your eyes are sewn shut And you've got your head in the clouds They say you're like sleeping beauty Never gonna wake up until your knight comes to kiss you But it's been ages and still no sign of that white horse and...
The Red Artist
He's an artist
like no other,
with a
r
a
z
o
r
as a paintbrush
and his own
skin
as his canvas,
he only paints
straight lines,
t
a
l
l
y
i
n
g
himself all over
until all he can see
Is red.
