Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2017
Before I slept, I watched Bob Ross paint a mountain and a couple of trees in a canvas.
He explained in detail the techniques he used while painting and I sat there and listened to his calm, old man voice.
Later that night I dreamt of stabbing someone in the gut many times before pulling their teeth out.
I woke up in the morning feeling very hungry.
I wish I knew how Bob Ross felt every morning.
Written by
corpser  21/M/philippines
   Ericka Bernardino and emzee
Please log in to view and add comments on poems