Canvas: Blank of Hope

May 29, 2010
By Anonymous

Tears o tears;
of crimson paint or silver eyeliner
the cuts on my wrists paint the canvas held before me,
which you always greet in silence.

Salty paper with running ink,
faces stripped of every smile,
and ears stripped of laughter.

You've painted this blank salt-stained canvas...
while ignoring every image of me;
the oppressed child screaming.

Where is the memory of life...
in the gutted hope I see on the paper
of which you stained in front of me?

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