Each word I place
With the precision
Of a painter,
Standing at a canvas
Palette in hand.
My canvas lies
On the knee before me
I draw the colours
drawn from my mind,
hues of the times.
Each phrase alone
Follows an another
Build to a sentence
Like so many strokes,
Colours of my mind.
One day the page
Will lay blank for someone
Yet to come, to follow
and fill the gaps
left by the world.
I will leave songs
Of life's progression,
The details of my heart
Are no secret, for all
To see as they see fit.
No comments:
Post a Comment