Art i have not. Only these trembling hands do i have to reveal to me the sub-conscious truth that is wanting to be freed. Forms of expression do i have something more in my grasp. So plead with me, and praise the hands that you have today. Such works can't be skewered, masked, or booed. No such thing is horrible art, only what you feel in your heart. The only thing that really matters is not what other say, is the way you've expressed yourself every..single..day.
(I'm posting poetry. <_< Nothing really to say about myself. Except my name is Michael. I do a bunch of poetry. I do draw, but it's been forever. I might post some of my old work if i can find it. My art is self-expression and sometimes something funny.)

Poison of Love

In the darkness i will sleep,
waiting for you to dream.
To your soul i will take,
Sinking in like a bane.
Like an intruder upon your mind.
A sickness taking it's effect along with the ravages of time.

I am the ghost and you are my host.
I will change you,
make you strange,
eat away the things that pain.
I will make you a soldier of beasts,
the kind that pilfers,
ravages, and eats.
They will see it in your eyes,
from the time i infect you,
till the time of your demise.

Michael Dewayne McGinnis

Copyright ©2008 Michael Dewayne McGinnis