The sliding of my fingers,
Along the length of the canvas...
Come to me, sweet recovery,
My therapy, after tragedy...
It happened again
I was tricked, decieved,
Just because I believe,
That there is always hope...
The steady stroke of my brush,
Dabbling in the colors,
Of the skies many parts,
I visualize the pain in my heart...
I fell into another lie,
But this time I recognized it,
Ahead of time...
I didn't avoid it,
Because I was afraid,
Of letting go of love, again...
The thickening layers,
Of weeks of work,
Within my piece,
My oil art...
I have almost finished,
With one last stroke,
The colors all directive,
What my emotions wrote.
A contest entry
- one day contest. by layla..
1050 points, ended March 11, 2008, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What's your therapy?
Comments
-
hmm. mine is thinking and scribbling with colors or ink whatever i get. i like what you wrote. it's really emotional and flows well. BUT, i don't like use of ellipsis. i mean the last stanza does fine without it. i guess you have left it without using ellipsis. overall you did a fine job. thanks for entering
good luck.
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