The white canvass, scribbled
with sqiggly shapes
are words from my mind
my fingers seem so nimble
my thoughts perform a dance
with them
the ebb and flow of each sentence
conjures up many meanings
such is the manic, of a lonley man

a dimly lit light, a glass of shiny red
and all the voices talking at once
tell my story first, no tell mine first
whats the difference
they all end the same