I'm a writer
I paint pictures
With my words
I draw the sun
The starry nights
The howling winds
And the calm seas

I'm a writer
I can make you see
Snowfall in July
Rainbows on a cloudy night

I can make trees bow
At the wind's command
I can make a leaf float
Till it reaches
Just where I want it
And people
Mere puppets

But the beauty
In my paintings
Is not the words
I chose to use
Or the hue
Of emotions
Smeared across
My canvas

The true worth
Lies in your eyes
What you perceive
And chose to believe
The words that caught
At the strings of your heart
The world that you created
Using my words

I'm merely the hand
Of an artist, struggling
But you
You are the eyes