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Painting without Paint
February 20, 2012
Changing, moving, molding.
Morphing into something,
Not my own.
I am a canvas.
No one else can paint upon me.
Many have tried,
None succeed.
I am a canvas.
But I am incomplete.
You can see where I have,
Splattered paint in corners,
But it gets washed away by others,
Like a sand castle by the sea.
I am waiting for an artist,
To show me how to create my own work,
Show me how to splatter all of the colors in me.
And create a masterpiece.
© Heather W., No., Brunswick, NJ
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