The brush glides across the canvas
Like there is nothing else to it.
It makes a line of watery wonder.
It takes up the space of the canvas.

It's what makes up the beautiful
Pieces. Like the Mona Lisa and
Starry night. All of these wonder
Ful paintings were made by wonderful
People.

I watch my blank canvas grow
With beautiful meanings of anything and
Everything. I do this day by day.
I sit in a comfy chair, brush in hand

And let my hands do the work.
I watch my hand stroke the canvas
Of beautiful scenes and wonders. All
I wonder is will I ever be like them?

I will be like them someday.