Self Portrait

I’ve painted a picture High yellows and deep purple. Erasing the blues. Though I can’t hide from them, because inside of them, Lies context clues. They keep popping up on my canvas, as if it’s some news I owe you’s, saying I can’t loose So if the picture was written I would read between the lines. But I see between the paint. Longing for a deep enough red and then I sought and found one. Fingers caught stuck between the brush As if I’d know the outcome I want to be done Light shades that could symbolize a sun Intrigued with the scene But even as the hand strikes green One notices that it’s never what it seems So I hold my hand against my heart and try to finish And think as surely as there was a beginning There’s going to be an ending Making vows to a happily ever after picture But what happens when the blues begin to shift you creating mixture? I would tear it up, but knowing that I would miss you, I refocus my attention and continue to stick with you Arts and crafts on my path Not knowing when I will be through with it I’m not new to this, plus I don’t want to loose. This vision. Even though there’s I owe you’s behind the painting They are hidden Though I knew them to be true There was still a compromise collision Clocks ticking and I’m becoming intimate with this masterpeice A dreamy artist I am. As I plan to stand to finish the outline I’m at once disturbed by what I heard and should I say By what I saw Like the voice of one speaking, within a picture of something I didn’t draw Sort of disturbed but enlightened My senses became heightened at the sight of it’s bright gold and deep red Trying to depict between the lines what was read or being said But it’s not so self explanatory. So I asked the creator of it for it’s meaning It was revealed what was the real deal Awakened me from my daydreaming Silenced my paint strokes Provoked me to see my idol worship The Truth within the lies, His canvas compared to mines, and vice versa. I’ve been the mastermind for too long But he came and presented colors I’ve never seen And the colors spoke my life is not my own Something that’s so supreme And I wonder, what am I going to do I notice that this picture has less blues With more clear I owe you’s. Think twice, and I want to be through with what I’ve created. Didn’t sign it or date it, finally dropping the brush. This vision, his vision, is better. Being able to remove my hand from my heart. Vows severed. I was intrigued. And it was free to afford it. Freely give, I received, becoming the will of his portrait. Beauty. The artist. Submits.