Brush With Pain

A blank canvas is like a blank soul Ready to be created in such a way That stories can be told A strike of rhythmic stokes that blend Sometimes it has passion Passion that can curse The agony of dismay with scrapes Feelings that never sway Grieving as though insane Artistic in so many so many way The canvas shakes like skin It is a reaction that brush Linear with focus intent Downward strike with decay This one piece of Art is whimsical Because when looked at It is a feeling of betrayal April 20, 2015