No wool. No scales.
Just stone. Just pressure.
I can get an idea in my head
I can cut and shave into the rock
And make it something
I can make me something
I can create something
Maybe even something beautiful
Maybe even bring a stone to life
No wallowing over regrets.
Just losing fear.
I can turn nothing into anything
I can be anything
So who will I be?
Which is it better to be?
Michelangelo or His David?

![IMAG0088[1]](https://desperatelydespicabledrivel.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/imag00881.jpg?w=900&h=1596)