
The high is my art
Painting red pictures
Of my broken heart
Pain is my canvas
And life is my muse
Oh how they inspire
Oh how they confuse
The outcasts my clay
The in-crowd my mold
They make a fine sculpture
Bow down and behold
This image I’ve made
Of drug and addiction
Cannot evade
My Lords conviction
I can’t take enough
To hide from his gaze
How high is heaven?
How high will I raise?
Not high enough
And never will be
For the guy up above
Still looks down upon me
When he sees my art
What will his thought be?
What else can he do,
But to condemn me?
And how one so high
Could become yet so low
Is a mystery to me
But my art will show
A picture alone
And a portrait of me
But don’t think your wrong
When my face you can’t see
For while running away
From true art and true love
My planned failed outright
I did not look above
For even though when
I enhanced my highs
I forgot to look up
And ran into the skies
I got hit pretty well
And as you can see
That bump on the head
Knocked some sense into me
My heart was too full
Of these drugs and these lies
And for my Lord
You can’t compromise
And I chose my art
Or what I thought it to be
And the art that I cherished
In turn consumed me
And here’s my happy ending
No more high, I have new art
No more drugs and only love
Plus the Good Lord has my heart









chrisbriones


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