I live for my art.

My skills don't set me apart, 

but they flow, through my pen, from my heart.

It's embodiment, I have been from the start.

A hollow vessel would remain if it ever depart.

      It'll help me climb the ladder,

      Help make a cake out of batter,

      Help me skyrocket through the roofso every ceiling can shatter.

Something small for a start.

Nothing big, just a part.

A piece in which all my soul I can impart.

There's not much to say.

It's clear that words aren't my way,

And fate has put me through much dismay,

But one good art gig would save me from today.

A poster, comic cover, or portrait would convey

      The skills that I possess,

      Relieve my distress,

      And help support my family, but I digress.

Art has been my forte,

Saving my life many a day.

And the right job will prove to be the ultimate gateway.