Drawing

a line a curve a dash of color

red here, blue there

stubby little hands broken, dirty fingernails make futile attempts to peel off the paper of a diminishing crayon

I'm just a human face flawed maybe even dehumanized by innocent hands

but I am "perfect" and so I am perfect

voices ooh and ahh mother coos father beams

I am this "masterpiece" I am this work of art I do not see what is so grand I am just scribbles, a stick figure with nothing but dots for eyes, nothing but a smudge for clothes

My world is empty I have nothing but the most elementary of colors and surroundings to fulfill me

But yet I am so highly praised I am hung on the wall for all to see

and my creator with his tubby hands and his gap-toothed smile and his enthusiastic squeal he is proud of me and so I am perfect