A Big Blank Canvas

A big blank space all our own

Listening to our loved ones talk on the phone

Watching a young boy throw his dog a bone

The world we live in seems so vast

But we may see when all time has passed

We may see that this was just a place to put our pastels

We may see that it matters not what sells

It also does not matter what Sally's seashells sell for

This world may just be a series of doors

Our ceilings may actually be floors

They may be floors of the next stories above us

We can never stop dreaming

The sky is the limit as the saying goes

We must dream as the waves crash over our sand covered toes

I believe I will use this blank canvas that I own to create a masterpiece

You too should create yours before meeting your final peace

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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