The Child Won't Paint

"He won’t paint", cried out the Father suspecting a flame of genius in the toddler’s eyes. The painterly parent bought paper, acrylics, oils, brushes, chalks, and crayons, not even a finger painting emerged. The child steadfastly refused to paint. The father pleaded: “For the glory of God why not paint!” His offspring only turned away to suck a thumb. Months past…years. The child grew to be a sullen teenager. He began to write poetry – and such woeful, doleful poetry! Exclamation marks rose up in heaven as thick as bamboo forests. His father read them, his face grew ashen with a sickly alarm. The poems spoke of phantasmagorical visions, hordes of screaming demons, dismembered herds of hapless humans. Abysmal were the visions the boy unleashed from his newly erupted consciousness. Presentiments flew up from the pages as horrid as the blood-red dragons of Hades. Upon reading his son’s latest works the father exclaimed: “For God’s sake, NEVER paint!” He took the young man for long walks in the country, forced him to join a local soccer team, suggested a military career, alas the boy began to paint.