Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

So Picasso

Nixed entirely, the
Idea of painting my
Face before the flood
Seems full of complaint
And I, a robot of habit,
Continue to turn
Art into ugly,
Ugly into art.
As I glance into
The faulty mirror,
I recognize only terror so true
That the confidence melts
From my eyes.
My normally intimidating face
Turnign Picasso in a
Matter of seconds.

11-4-09


Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
So Picasso

314,990 Poems Read