ZPupG1rl19

There's always that one kid that one singular friend who stands just a little bit away from the big crowd The one that always tries to be nice to the kids who get picked on There was a girl like that who would smile instead of sneer when I was growing up. The only proof of her is a small brown paper bag from Valentine's Day with my name on it, misspelled. At least she put the effort in to even try.

I feel at times that my art is not worth sharing,       that my help is unwarranted and unwanted. Fear creeps up, whispering       that I'm not good enough. Opening the link to this site        I see that fear is lying;             people do appreciate my drawings I find here that I have worth. The hand I offer others           may be covered in scars,                  but the fact that I extend it at all                                 means the world to someone.