Painting
Walking towards a blank canvas
picking up the brush
painting
filling the canvas with
vivid greens,
brilliant blues,
making your story heard.
Predicting your furture.
Reflecting your past.
Painting your present.
The canvas is filled with a story,
a story that only a few people can remember.
The story of you.
The story of me.
The story of our people.
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.