To create something beautiful,
It takes a piece of you.
The more beauty you impart, 
The deeper it rips you.
And yet it's only the artist
Who knows how much it took|
While others blissfully overlook.

To choose life as an artist,
Takes courage and confidence
As days pass by,
Wanes what was once high.
In the end,
It's only passion that's left of you
For anyone to forget or reminisce.

To love an artist,
Takes everything and more
To love as deep as they do
With nothing more than a heart
That's been broken by hurt
Over and over
Till death offers solace.

To mourn an artist,
You must tread with caution
For there is no known precaution.
It's a deadly business
As there is no greater mess
Than to choose between yourself
And the greatest love you've ever known.

"Is it really a choice?",
Somewhere, lovers wonder.

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