Crown of raindrops on my head,



Dripping, giggling, dancing round my hair.



Pages of a book shall be my stage,



For I paint only in violin notes.



Sketches on the curtains, crumpled sheets on the dirt,



In a wave of a hand I shall bring to life



Jar of stars I sprinkle onto the sky



Let unseen forces string all up



And bags I, name the constellations born.



Plastic-clad knights, archers with poison arrows,



Been preaching myths in broad daylight



The hunt will have no rest



Till the day I fade away



For I am the forbidden artist



In every kid’s head.



