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Amoy Mar 2019
Mystical cosmic brush strokes of sprinkles,
Pink marshmallows and blue cotton candy
Left streaks across the sky, so magnificent
Each puff of cloud glowed as if kissed by a unicorn
The sun simmers softly below the horizon
painting the sky pink
Poetic T Aug 2014
Blank canvass,
Then colour brings it to life
Shades and tones scratch in to picture
It bleeds creativity,
Moments become minutes
Which consume the hours of the day,
A picture is formed by
Outlines ,
Life upon the page,
One last brush stoke, shading put there
But what did my brush strokes create
A hand, as if  reaching out the page
Is what covered this canvas of white
To look upon it,
"Did my eyes deserve me"
Moving forward as if to clench
I move, but to slow
As what was inanimate,
Now paint drips off as it has hold
Upon my hand,
The paint seeps up as I am consumed
By the canvas
Holding on to the frame,
My finger scratch upon the wood
As I scream,
The terror frozen within the paint,
I am but brush stokes
My face painted on canvas
The hand upon my shoulder
I am cold now,
I am for eternity now the paints prisoner,
The hand is my guard
Such vivid brushstrokes
As if she painted fear upon the canvass
A master piece of cloth and paint
Not knowing I am trapped now for eternity
Terror painted within this frame.

— The End —