A vast array of different images,
lay stretched out on the canvas wall
It screamed loneliness and pain,
echoing the thoughts
that the painter could only hear.
Try and resist,
but the hand is guided
with a will of its own,
to convey the images
that is in the heart of its weaver
the painter.
Categories: Poetry, Uncategorized
Nice and skillfull poem, you wrote a great piece here once again to add to your previous collections.
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