Wolves are coming back
They’re at the gates of my house
They come again and again
With their claws burying deep
Pressing hard
Against me, against my flesh
But I keep here, inside
And I keep being me, my story
But the wolves are there
They’ve always been there
Building roads I don’t want to cross
Pushing me to stop
To espectate
To see what is not mine
But I’m not gonna watch
I have my own mirror to reflect
My own canvas to paint
My own name to hang on the wall
It’s me remember?
Yes, I’m myself
The rest, I don’t care
The rest, I don’t wanna know
It doesn’t matter to me
Never did, never will
So, fuck off scum!
Go to that place where you’ve never been before
Oblivion
Cause no one cares for the devil
And the devil cares for every one
That’s the name of the game
I will not play.
Wakeup.Mau 
Oh wow as I began I was thin king this is my story of being an artist. Then the canvas and not playing the game. So good so good!
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Thanks! it’s really about being an artist! the struggle of it on a daily basis, being tested, judged and all. I’m so glad we connected!
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me too I am so glad to have found your poem. interesting how that always works, you see I am on my journey. Thank you!
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Best of luck on your journey and on your beautiful painting!
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