My Cookie Cutter Angel

Sharply protruding

From beneath the peachy canvas

Of this artist

Who draws

With a twist

Are the rewards

She longs

To see

Some quite visible

Others in hiding

Her goal

Is to make them

Appear

Into thin air

For the world

To see

For the only art

She now can create

Is a secret sculpture

A sculpture

Of the demon

Within

For she can no longer

Paint

On the battered canvas

As she once

Did

So instead

She is left

To reshape

What is left

Into something

New

With the finished art

Lying just beneath

The old and battered

Canvas.