White Art

I see a paint brush in your hand. A fear of true, a easy understand. But look closely your eyes are still. As others keep walking- questions my mind's fill. Painted white is what they see. What is white hiding from everyone and me? As I walk closer to examine this art A image is more clear but it seems a new start. I wonder more and try to read. Reading for hours-I know I wont succeed. Now standing in front of stone eyes, its an easy deceive. What they are looking at is not what you think to be. You realize when you take a step aside from this piece, The stone eyes are there still and your thoughts now decease. Now regretting my wonder and sorry to try. Not there to know or for me to ask why...