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The Painting
Sometimes I just want to hide,
Away from the world,
Take a break from reality
So I paint
My pallet is clean, but marked
Just the way I like it
My brush is straight and sharp
I always cry before i paint
It gives me the emotion I need
As I begin to paint I immediately feel better
Many people judge my work
Saying its morbid and depressing
But I don’t care
I just paint
Today my painting takes longer than usual
And I cry more than usual
I paint and paint until I fall asleep
Sometime later my mother walks in and see’s my painting
and see’s me sleeping
She begins to cry,
I’m surprised because my mother never cries
I realize I’m upsetting her and try to talk
But I can’t
And I’m scared
She comes over and examines my masterpiece
“Honey how could you?” she whispers
My mother gently cleans up the remnants of my masterpiece
“I love you” she squeaks as she calls 911 to take me away
I’ve found a way to hide
I found my break
But my painting led to pain
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