Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
ritaPoems
blank, is the canvas the artist, sits alone and thinks of brighter colors the canvas becomes my home adding touches of the sun in one single stroke ivy green masks the clouds the jungle becomes a cloak the brightest white, to grace the sky a brilliant breeze and tiny specks of yellow dust to give the wind something to tease trees, clouds, sunlight things I've never seen all come to life... on this tiny little screen bold, rich colors paint a life I once dreamed aqua ribbons of blue highlight the tiny stream I look outside at the brick wall in front of my window seal and turn back to my canvas real life lost all appeal so I paint the things I'd rather see that in my heart become alive with careful strokes and dimension a new life I created with artistic strife there it lies before me with an angelic glow but something seems amiss one last thing it needs to grow among the barest spots beneath the rich, wet paint I draw a person smiling though the smile seems so faint hidden in the heart a place I'd long to see and there it is, my masterpiece... the life I hold within.. me.
0
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 11:40 PM UTC
Paint a life
blank, is the canvas the artist, sits alone and thinks of brighter colors the canvas becomes my home adding touches of the sun in one single stroke ivy green masks the clouds the jungle becomes a cloak the brightest white, to grace the sky a brilliant breeze and tiny specks of yellow dust to give the wind something to tease trees, clouds, sunlight things I've never seen all come to life... on this tiny little screen bold, rich colors paint a life I once dreamed aqua ribbons of blue highlight the tiny stream I look outside at the brick wall in front of my window seal and turn back to my canvas real life lost all appeal so I paint the things I'd rather see that in my heart become alive with careful strokes and dimension a new life I created with artistic strife there it lies before me with an angelic glow but something seems amiss one last thing it needs to grow among the barest spots beneath the rich, wet paint I draw a person smiling though the smile seems so faint hidden in the heart a place I'd long to see and there it is, my masterpiece... the life I hold within.. me.
rita
Written by
rita
American
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 11:40 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem