To Plainly Paint Myself
Now that would be quite an artist's chore.
To stroke onto canvass those ever changing colours;
That blue of happiness turning swiftly into grey depression.
Clear whites of eyes blurring helplessly into bloody red.
This soldier's portrait is only as strong as his weakness,
Strength drawn from a jaw line which needs to smile.
So where is the reality that drew me here?
One painter's brush could never capture my entire being.
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
Copyright © Robert Gruhn | Year Posted 2014
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