By: Cedric McClester

My canvass is a blank piece of paper
So where do I start
See every word I write
Is a work of art
For critics to dissect
That is to take apart
Yet every word I write
Comes from my heart

My canvass isn't filled in
By charcoal or paint
But rather by the words I use
Without restraint
So you will know what it is
Or what it ain't
Before you even think
To lodge a complaint

My canvass is a blank piece of paper
Filled with the written word
Where my thoughts can be profound
Or sometimes absurd
They're carefully jotted down
The way they occurred
In the method and the manner
That I preferred

My canvass isn't filled with
Charcoal or paint
But rather by the words I use
Without restraint
So you will know what it is
Or what it ain't
Before you even think
To lodge a complaint

My canvass is whatever
I want it to be
Filled with the word pictures
I want you to see
Whether or not
You happen to agree
And I submit
It may not be your cup of tea

My canvass isn't filled with
Charcoal or paint
But rather by the words I use
Without restraint
So you will know what it is
Or what it ain't
Before you even think
To lodge a complaint

My canvass is a blank piece of paper
On which I create
Works of art from the words
That I state
At times they are mundane
Sometimes they're even great
And it's always my hope
That you can relate

My canvass isn't filled with
Charcoal or paint
But rather by the words I use
Without restraint
So you will know what it is
Or what it ain't
Before you even think
To lodge a complaint


(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.