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Below is the poem entitled Paint which was written by poet Kyle Carlson. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Trying to be something it ain’t 
 The very source for the beloved word hate
Guys, we’ve been painting like this for awhile now 
So open a window before I faint 
                                Paint’s supposed to be great 
But the colors still don’t seem to blend we’ll have to wait 
And I’m growing impatient… 

These walls are secretly covered in blue 
My veins are filled, to the maximum capacity, with the bluest paint you’ve ever seen
So are his, so are hers, so are yours 
                                            And sometimes the paint pours
But the blue wears out and red’s the new coat
        Now the walls are red 
It’s like we’re the same entity 
Man there must be something wrong with my head 
                           Was it a dream? 
A nightmare cloud of nothing I’ve ever seen? … 

Then it hit me like a brick in the face
               I dozed off in the middle of a “race”
And Poor Humanity couldn’t keep pace
And that sucks because I was rooting for him
But that good ole’ hate was about to take first place 
As he crossed the finished line, more paint spilled from its can
    Blue paint turned to red again
A Paintbrush was sharpened and used as a knife 
                                           It wasn’t a dream, it was life…

This doesn’t make sense
My mind is dizzy…
                  Why must the Paint run?
Why does it slowly drip from the barrel of my gun?
Why do I hold a gun?
Why am I painting these walls red?
Now these walls are dead
And so are yours and so are his and so are hers 
If I don’t stop, than it’s ugly walls for all…

      I think this is an epiphany! …

The first coat of paint is always the same color
 All walls are identical in the beginning 
The second coat is not always a different color than someone else’s but it’s not always the same 
It hides the first coat from sight 
        That deep blue that, if coaxed, transforms into red
And that coat should never seep through 
  Because the second coat is what make the walls beautiful
                       No matter the color of the walls of the house you call home

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  1. Date: 8/29/2011 9:38:00 PM
    \\\\\\wow.. \i can't even type right....THIS IS AWESOME!!! jUST EVERYTHING, MAN! Keep, keep writing - your really good. Always, Laura

  1. Date: 8/5/2011 12:33:00 AM
    Nice write mate lots of philosophy and maybe a bit of a diagnosis lots of thoughts spinning round....with love...old Jack

  1. Date: 8/4/2011 2:24:00 PM
    Enjoyed reading your creative poetry today Kyle. Wishing you the best in your writing endeavors whatever they may be. I will return to read more as time allows so keep your pen flowing. Love, Carol

  1. Date: 8/4/2011 12:39:00 AM
    gosh, this has sure got quite a lot of thinking in it. A great one for your philosophy on life, Kyle. (also, I just love the smell of paint )