Matter Of The Art (Diary)

Oh big head...
How did your mother birth such girth?
Eyes set within crows feet sharpening claws when you smile.
Paper lips, lie lie...lie a while.
Your height, oh my..you must like pi!
3.14 seconds, a brain that drag races with every new thought...worried in your own web you'll eventually get caught.
I could care less, Benjamin's always been green, but I most assuredly prefer a tattered canvas with Bob's "happy little trees"♡
You are the thief, and I know this now, but I'm good with minimal so I'll make little count.
And if I dont, I know that I tried, and to thine ownself I never lied.