Line by line,
mind drawn out,
hours of work,
but still plagued by doubt.
Words unaligned,
candle burning low,
needing more time,
full of worry and woe.
Frustrated thoughts,
of giving in stray,
alone and distraught,
too busy for days.
Losing all faith,
face buried in hands,
never good enough to save,
won't meet the demands.
People outside your door,
wait for a surprise,
but the genius they adore,
can't make his head rise.
He finally emerges,
stifling a yawn,
he secretely lurches,
but a smile is put on.
The sketches, they burn,
the mistakes are erased,
and they'll never see past,
the brave look on his face.
