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.