ME SHE, SHE ME.
A born artist was she
Finding expression through varying forms of art
She loved to draw and she doodled a lot
She would sing and warm the coldest heart
She schooled with the best
Was taught by the best
Helped others attain best
But she could hardly make up her mind
What should be her quest?
She finally became a professional
Or so she thought
Yet other parts of her kept screaming for expression
Let’s see her final lot
To be all she can ever be
Was the decision, the conclusion of the matter
And who could she be, but me
The very narrator.
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