No no no, this just won't do at all. Terrible. Just terrible. A few suggestions ---->
Such emptiness inside of her
Who can fill it
Who can bring passion back into her
Why not try:
Such emptiness inside her cupboard
Who can fill it with fat Japs?
Who can bring the keyboard-flavoured armchair back to the hairy bastard?
And instead of:
One person can give you the world
And sometimes that same person can take it away
Is that what happened to her
One person can give you the carrot
And sometimes that same person can drive a bus
Is that what happened to her hairy bastard?
Now, here's where it gets interesting. You've written:
Blood transfused through veins
Becoming the artist's rendition
Muse inhaled, embraced, accepted
Frail heart formed by knowing hands
And here's what I've written instead:
Blood transfused through carrots
Becoming the artist's bank account
Muse inhaled, embraced, log cabin
Frail heart formed by Wesley Snipes
I also think some work is needed here:
Her face was an art
Her smile was like summer
And her eyes were like spring
Now the face is not an art anymore
And her smile is an autumn breeze
And her eyes cold as winter freeze
This is what I was thinking:
Her face was a hairy bastard
Her smile like the carrot
And her eyes were like hairy bastard anuses
Now the face is not a mushroom anymore
And her smile is a bereaved panda
And her eyes as cold as ham
I think in general the whole thing feels like it ends too abruptly. A final verse might go something like this:
There's a sound coming from my legs
It sounds almost like your voice
But mainly sounds like a hairy bastard
I loved you but you left me with no soups
Now I have to eat the memories, and they taste like ghost-farts
I'm hungry for chips, and you left me with beans
Why did you leave me? No, seriously?
The hairy bastard stabs me with the carrot
My bank manager vomits lemons into a cup
And I use them to make a boat to sail away from...MYSELF?
Yes, NOT myself,
Yes, I have no bananas.
Fuck me I'm so art it hurts.