Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

My Painting

My painting holds the splats and scratches in a golden frame,
Hung on walls that no ones sees, in lack of love or fame.
But all the loneliness and worry becomes overcame,
Because I know that no one knows that I am not the same.
Judge me by my scratches, splats, or judge me by my name,
Judge me with your rifles as you begin to take aim.
And as the bullets crack the glass and shred and tear and maim,
My painting's message still stands strong to share what I proclaim.
My beauty is all hidden by a wall of dancing flame,
The world tells me to play along, but my life is no game.
To those who shoot their bullets, I do not give you the blame.
My goal along my twisting life is to, my self, to tame.

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