The Healing of Passion
I paint all my sorrows and I leave the real world with a brush stroke
I gently gather all my being to overcome the boundaries of reality
I focused on thriving on a canvas rather than words alone
My life is all about creation, and nothing less than its perfection
Ever since I was little I been in solitude with emotions unknown to me
Than out of my vision came the hand of redemption kind and helpful
My life changed when I had an accident almost claiming my life
But now I am a fighter in my belief and my life, I can focus on healing
Healing others by my smile, creation, and my ideas that flows through me
By the stroke of my brush I have no pain or grief that I can imagine
My light in me shines so bright it never is dark in my world
Especially when I can share it with everyone in the universe
I am fragile easy to change emotions, rather not talk but use colors
My, my soul, is not just my own it is sent from above, not to race anyone
But to guide myself to those creations, I am who I am, because of me
Not no one, Not anyone, Not the words of people, I have my own technique
I do not focus in silly arguments or drama, but I get sucked into it
Because I am gullible and don’t know better, yet my spirit does not fallow
It knows when to depart the physical being, rather than stay to hear it all
When it wants back in it feels like the hand that gracefully picks me up
It heals my passion, my heart, life in me brightens and all the changes disappear
Then my hand becomes my tool, it shows me how bright I am
My eyes fallows, the stroke of my brush, revealing my creation and my passion
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