Painting Poem by Freedom From Darkness

She paints a pretty picture
but the story has a twist.
her paint brush is a razor

And her canvas is her wrist.
she paints her pretty picture
in a colour that is blood red,

While using her sharp paint brush
she finally ends up dead.
her pretty pictures fading

Quite slowly on her arm.
her blood no longer flows
no nor longer can she harm.

She painted her pretty picture,
but her picture had a twist.
You see her mind was a razor,

And her heart was her wrist.