Sketching

Drawings always had an appeal to me.

Sometimes I'd draw
Lock-myself-in-my-room concentration and draw
With someone hammering at my door
I yell back my mind's been set
I'm not finished yet

Often I'd draw
Bringing life to lines and curves on paper
Striking erasing deleting failed tries
Sometimes I feel I've got it; but,
no,
I'm not finished yet

Once I drew
And happened to see
My arm wasn't what it was supposed to be
Black lines outside, see-through ovals within
Tinted with a light shade of gray
Still awaiting to be inked

Life imitates art

I'm not finished yet

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Written in slight boredom.

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Bad Daniel. No milk tea for you. =D