I’ve drawn you,

Each stroke I thought “I’m lucky this is mine”.

Tracing your form,

Stopping to stare at your perfect lines.

My art a mere copy of what this world gave in you.

My work never giving justice no matter how I do.

I’ve drawn you,

I think to have you here in my hands.

Tracing your perfect form,

Wishing life into my creation as each stroke expands.