Everyone’s A Critic

Oh, but mayhap I can’t always be

Delicate charcoal artwork strokes

I can also be a broken pencil lead

Crashed from furious hale evoked

Yet frankly, just who’s your canvas

To tear apart my painted landscape

Despite those noveaux starry nights

Being my only acrylic pastel escape

Oh, but mayhap I cannot always be

A louvre rendition you expect of me

Yet pray not be proud of your abstract

For such a madness might self-destruct.

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