Watching the Proverbial Sunrise

I heard the reverberating footsteps Synching up to the beating of my heart, And I was positive that unless I got myself together, I would watch me fall apart. And I can't let that happen again 'cause then you'll see my heart In the saddest state it's ever been. This is no place to try and live my life. Who I am hates who I've been And who I am will take the second chance you gave me. Who I am hates who I've been 'cause who I've been only ever made me...

INFORMATION

So I picked up a pencil one day, when I was younger. I don't remember the incident, but I assume I picked up a Crayola crayon, and began scratching at pieces of scratch paper. I probably looked at my artwork in complete awe, amazed at what wonder I was able to create. It has been about 18 years since then, and I hope I can say that I have improved since then. I still have my old 'drawings' which consisted of scribbles of colorful lines spewed across a white paper canvas. To be able to look at those scribbles made me realize how far I've come, and how much I am able to improve over time, practice, and my continuous love for art.