The writer writes.
The artist draws.

The writer reads.
The artist watches.

The writer depends on words.
The artist depends on shapes.

The writer uses letters.
The artist uses color.

I feel so much sorrow, my lack of artistic talents reflect upon my own life.
I wish I could express my thoughts and feelings into pictures.. into shapes and color.
But I cannot, I'm only a writer.
I'm a shapeshifter of words.
I'm an expression of letters.
I'm a shadow behind the page.

The artist hogs the spotlight, takes away the observants.
I lay in wait, looking for someone to comment, fav, or even take I liking into my poetry and stories.
I want to have the spotlight, to be the best... the best word shifter.. the best writer.

My sorrow continues on, for the artist is always on the light.
I'm forced to wait in shadow until my words become known.
For now.. I shall wait.. until someone dodges the artist... and comes to me...