Pencil Poem by atticus denny

I'm jealous of other artists.
How can blanket text compare to something as elysian as a visual piece, depicting what mere words simply cannot convey?
Their brushes caress parchment, their pencils lovingly etch beauty into sheets.
The offputting tumult of mashing keys juxtaposed to the relaxing noise of soft brushes making contact with a blank canvas.
Drawers depict perfect images from their mind. A picture effortlessly recounting real thoughts.
My face contorts with anger at my awkward scribbles. No amount of practice seems to be enough to articulately depict my conceptions.
I am not a poet, I am sad and I cannot draw.
Elysian: (relating to or characteristic of heaven or paradise, depicting something profound or beautiful.)