Tracing Ghosts

I used to draw the world through someone else's eyes

Copying the lines they shape, repeating their disguise

I trace a hero, draw a clown, bring cartoons to the wall

But none of it was mine, just echoes standing tall

People praised the steady hand, I learned to fake

A control imitation of a dream I didn't make

They thought they saw an artist, a talent taking form

But I knew I was just weathering another passing storm

I draw for hours trapped inside a silent trance

Till the page filled up with lives I never got to chance

And while the world praised skill, I felt something missing

Like every stroke was someone else's memory I was kissing

I never dared to show the worlds I built inside

Those twisted daydream landscapes I carefully denied

The dragons, devils, monsters, my strange imagined breed

Because what if all that truth was something no one wants to read

So I drew a people light, the safe and simple kind

Left my inner chaos locked somewhere behind

I made lines perfect, but I didn't make them real

I copied other voices, too afraid to show my own feel

But even in the tracing, something started to spark

A tiny pulse of fire in the corners of the dark

Because sometimes copying the shapes that others drew

Is the only way a dreamer learns their hands can move

I wasn't faking art, I was learning to survive

Building quiet muscles that would later come alive

And every trace line that wasn't truly me

Became the shaky bridge to the voice I'd someday set free

The voice I'd someday set free

The voice I'd someday set free