Oct 2015
I try to hide my own misery*
and ignore through laughter
yet it shows in my paintings
at how the brush strokes
bleed with raging emotion
and the color black
keeps on creeping back
sometimes I suffocate
in the irreversible essence
of music lacking in syllables
like an abstract painting
the truth is hidden
only in the eye of the beholder
yet, the tragedy of all of this
is as the one who wields the brush
and select the palette of colors
I end up seeing myself
on the canvas
and it reeks sickly, sweetly, violently
and it screams
so all I can hear
is the misery
of my very own
*existence
and ignore through laughter
yet it shows in my paintings
at how the brush strokes
bleed with raging emotion
and the color black
keeps on creeping back
sometimes I suffocate
in the irreversible essence
of music lacking in syllables
like an abstract painting
the truth is hidden
only in the eye of the beholder
yet, the tragedy of all of this
is as the one who wields the brush
and select the palette of colors
I end up seeing myself
on the canvas
and it reeks sickly, sweetly, violently
and it screams
so all I can hear
is the misery
of my very own
*existence
