Poetry: The Musician

I come from a place
Where dudes get baked to get the cake
Women can't face facts
So they get a doctor to fix their face
If this is rap
I must be out my place
And being fake
Is exactly what it takes
To be successful
Sh*t is stressful
My mind sometimes gets in the way
And when I dream I see notes
But I gotta spend c-notes
To get my record played
Some say you can't progress
Without getting saved
We all sing the same song
Just pawns in the game
In the rap race
Creativity takes 2nd place

Poetry: The Artist

Painting his pain with his paintbrush
Color pumps through his veins
He gets high on portraits and outlines
That rush of painting the perfect stroke
He has a love affair with his palette
A little bit of this
A little bit of that
He throws a dash of creativity
In his art stew
The melting pot of color begins
He merges fact with fiction
In the ultimate harmony
Between canvas and color
Immaculate detail borders OCD
He stops at nothing to finish
Like no other....the artist