ART

I make a big incision in his stomach, so cunning, so carfully, so that no precious blood pour out,
I insert my hands, And pull out all with which you could not live without,
I grasp in my fingers a dull wooden needle, To with which I will sew the organs on the outside of the body in a way that pleases me,
For your eyes, So beautifully coated in glass, Hiden under is a green medow, I will cut the lids, So my face you will always see,
Now back to your blood, I will use to paint a pretty smile on your face,
Then I will freez my work of ART, And no one will remember you, You will have diappeared without a trace.