I saw you in Black and White,
Sadness from first light,
I took my brush,
and painted you blue,
now we’re the same hue,

This world is way too much for us
Tried to run but keep on stumbling
Tried to talk but keep on mumbling
Do you ever felt that way?

Let ourselves bloom
Despite of all those gloom
Wear all of the smiles like my costume
And hide them on your locker room.

I'll be the paint to color your world
Even though we're curled ,
Relax, I won't hurt, drop those blades
Because I'm willing to give you my colored shades.

What are you waiting for?
Lets paint this world, the color you adore
I'll give you this rose don't drop it at the floor
I'll be at your back leading your war

Now the breeze got us feeling good
Cruising 'round the neighborhood
Living like a teenager would
And love you like my mother could.

Don't worry too much
I won't leave, I'll be in touch
And if ever you get tired I'll catch,
Give you some glue for us to not detach.

Paint me red, color me blue,
The night is drenched in a silvery hue!

Of mysterious caverns,
Of silent streams,
Brush away the darkness,
Color my dreams!

Paint me red, color me blue
Turn me gold, see me true!!

What palette of inks
Has the world dyed itself
With on this day?

A collection of yellows
Painted the canvas
Of a plain and woods
During the setting sun.

A collection of greens
Littered the pines,
And finished the color
On the grass and moss.

A splash of red
To cover that setting fireball

A sheet of blue
And a touch of violet
To dribble on our night sky,
Which we will now
Litter with the deceitful stars!

An artist's hands are never clean.
A smudge of black, a splash of green...
Worn and scarred, they present
to life and hard work, a testament.
Calloused & bent, yet skilled in their craft,
from holding a pen or a brush by the shaft.
Stained with paint or ink or charcoal,
an Artist's hands are the tools of his soul.

you have always loved color
now it seems you're watching paint dry
stuck in a timeless position
unable to find out the why

it seems you've been painting forever
you look down at your hands and see
stains upon stains of latex and acrylics
but wonder why the canvas is empty

you search far and wide for a muse
anything for a drop of inspiration
just when you think you have found it
you discover it's under distortion

you haven't folded away your easel
so maybe you need to consider
you can get yourself a new palette
this painting can still be painted over