An artist – some say – merely
paints a picture - an apt observation.
Others may – if they so desire –
think he paints out his mind,
etches his soul onto white
canvas, which thus blooms,
vibrant, with depiction of a
Life.
Likewise, I, sit here with a
pen in my grasp, struggling
to come up with something,
words to solidify what I feel.
I think back to the last
time I saw you smile,
heard your voice, felt
alive and try to think of some
way to pour all of
myself onto the canvas of your
Soul.
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