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.