A Work of Art

You took this blank canvas Where we started from scratch But then you just ripped up any feeling that I thought I had left like a piece of tissue I was fragile. You made me believe that there was something, A bit of colour left in this black and white bitch Then you scribbledon the lines And spilt ink all over this shit. Yeah, I was abstract I’m hard to figure out from the front You can’t just join the dots with me Cause this aint no paint by numbers hun. And sure, I know I’m not something that you can frame But you just tore me to pieces Without even bothering to sign your name. You call yourself an artist Yet you can’t even finish what you started Well fuck you, Lets hope your next masterpiece aint as screwed up as me Gee, I hope you put that slut up in a gallery, For everyone to see. Hell, I might even write a rhyme about it.