My canvas was fresh and new
Clean, simple, and pure
I began to paint
What, I am not sure

I began with crimson
And added violet too
Slowly then quickly
Splashes of green, black, and blue

The more I added
The brighter it became
An abstract mess
Of sanity and shame

But soon my paintbrush
Began to wear
I was almost out of paint
And my canvas began to tear

So I left my masterpiece
For a while
And returned soon
With a bright smile

I sketched and carved
Right over the paint
Scraped some off
Made a new slate

My work is far from done
I’ll continue to add
New pieces of intrigue
Both happy and sad

I hope one day
To finish content
And admire the piece
On which so much time was spent

But I fear I’ll be resentful
And unimpressed
With this thing I call a masterpiece                                                                            Perhaps it’s really just a mess