As you sit there
moulding your character
Sculpturing his
intentions,
directing his reflection, naming his corrections, giving him false direction...
Inside i die a bit more
Every,
brush stroke you paint,
you taint the pure unadulterated innocence inside.
You've corrupted my core, take it I can no more, searching for an escape,
I can find no release,
no break.
For I'm the basis of your picture you must paint....
I have died inside
some more.
Please stop to think this character you could sink.
Has the best canvas in the world have more value than oneself?
Is knowing me not enough but paint me you must.
As I am insufficient,
not the equivalent,
to the importance and significance.
Of the painting you must brush.
Daniel Hing 16.10.12
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