The song of the unfortunates

Painting

My painting has grow.

Enlarged over time.

The lines getting thicker,

I think it's sublime.

People disagree,

They think it's terrible.

They just can't see

That it isn't horrible!

Time changes,

And so must I.

But one thing won't change,

Before I die.

My paintings live on,

Using blood red,

On a white canvas.