Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
We're given a blank canvas to fill
With whatever colors and stains
And other things we happen to spill
A once white canvas, never too plain
It doesn't matter the paint you use
So long as you appreciate the time
And shades and in-between hues
Of the painting you will call, "Mine"
B
Written by
B  28/M
(28/M)   
492
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems