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Painted Alone

Goin alone, Why must my travels be so stale. No love to quote, no tales to tell, I'm on troubled waters, no beacon to see. At home I'm always alone. Why O' why? No satiation in my soul, I'm idle and dark like a noir stained bowl. Pale face, lonely state, O' blind man I be. Imagine no walking cane to take, and pierced with a cold blackened stake. Alone, no life do I see. Why am I on an a empty isle? No paddle or ship to sail, and my inner self is so blatantly pale. Fore my painting is alone. A horsehair brush I must take, to paint me a new mirage, without loneliness in my forage place. Being Painted Alone says a thousand words. Your voice is tossed on the breeze. I'm flying kites that have no anchor string, my conversation forever lost with no words to bring.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 7/23/2012 9:42:00 AM
very lonely poem. i feel myself right there with you,but can't speak
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Richard McClellan
Date: 7/23/2012 9:44:00 AM
Thanks for reading Karen. I will check some of yours out later this week.
Date: 7/22/2012 2:43:00 AM
Hi Richard, you need to borrow some of my paint brushes.. I'm gonna paint you a friend called me.. and i will loan you some of my string, so we can go kite flying... But, I'm gonna warn you.. My kite will fly higher than high... Cause that is what I make out of life... even when I'm painted alone,, I'm not... this is a great verse... thank you..pd
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Richard McClellan
Date: 7/22/2012 7:40:00 AM
Awe shucks, that's sweet. Thank you PD, yes flying on the breeze will be fun with my friend holding my string... :)
Date: 4/25/2012 1:13:00 PM
Touching poem Richard, well written. - oxox love Anne-Lise
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Richard McClellan
Date: 4/25/2012 7:47:00 PM
Thanks so much for taking the time to read Anne Lise.