I'm looking at a blank piece of white paper
What to draw, what to create with this hand of mine
Again I think, but nothing seems to come through
I'm afraid of what people will say or react to what I drew with this hand of mine
But this is what I love and this is what I'll do
People will say what they will say, but still I'll continue
So now I'll draw and draw what I think, what I dream, what I love
I'm no DaVinci or even Picasso, but still I'll draw because that is what I love












