Brown Bear

Red eyes, she smells like smoke,

Tune in, she hums a prose.

This is what paradise meant to her,

 Melancholy she says when she’s sober.

Light meadow breeze brushes her skin,

Glances outside, see a brown bear dancing.

It sings, “I am an art, you are an artist,

Portray me like a fat old atheist".

After ages her white canvas felt a stroke,

Splashing colors, perfected whole.

Folks gazes, “What made you drew this, oh dear”,

She cracks, “Angel guide, a dancing brown bear.”