Abnormal Artistry

The abnormal artist sits at his desk, Sketching his nightmares; and it's so grotesque,

To reflect himself; he's scared of mirrors, Compare ugliness to painted terrors,

Through the spout, recoils a hopeful new thought, Here to fill the space this emptiness brought,

A Perspective on self is more profound, Than vanities stray on a folly cloud.

Our meaning drives the motive that supplies, Anxieties where the painting collides,

Staring back with it's marvelous intent, There's a cascade of truth; what's different?

Turpitude doesn't exist within or out, The gallery around you evokes doubt.