Sigh

I am an artist at living- my work of art is my life.

My palette is broken, i've run out of colours and my brush has hardened.
How am I going to re-paint this picture that has been hung up on the wall for me to see?
So much for changing this life.
I'm tired of the changing perspectives that i ought to possess- those "think positive" kind of technique.
The fact is, you are no longer my father.
So clearly stated in the papers you've signed, you have chosen to break away.
But your blood runs through my veins!
I thought I've gotten my mind off you since you walked away 6 years ago.
But, this reality has crumpled my mind, and every neurone just twitches with the thought of you gone.
My nerve impulses are inconsistent, I can't accept it.
I am sad!

Perhaps,

inside my heart is breaking, my make-up may be flicking, but
my smile still stays on.

Drive your taxi and perhaps i'll hitch your ride one day.