When I could paint with the tips of my fingers
I brought life to the sensation constructed in my dreams
A finger-painting framed by, yours truly
But sadly, soon ripped apart at the seams.
The next week I decided to get down to buisness, once again
I had a clean canvas and a clear mind
Although my eyes enjoyed his vibrant color
He wasn't what my heart desired to find.
Tired and lonesome, I tried to come up with something more
Nights spent stressing on if this creation was wrong or right
Hoping the day would come, when I'd finally accept that he's good enough
but instead he blew out my last flame of light.
I scrubbed my hands with vigor
Swore I'd never paint again
Burned all the unused canvases to ash
I haven't been inspired since then.
But one day when I last expected it
Splashes of blue and green caught my eye
A creation I didn't recognize
But couldn't let leave and pass bye
At first I was unsure
Because I couldn't trust a creation not of my own
But I'm glad I leaped into spontaneity
Because If not I'd be missing the love I've never known
Although I've been loved before
And it's living torture to let my heart roam free
Instead of me creating the love I wanted
The love I needed seemed to find me.