paintings
my canvas isnt clean ,
my paints arent fresh ,
my brushes arent new ,
my headspace isnt fair .
the canvas tainted with his lies ,
the paints mixed contaminated with his charcater ,
the brushes dipped in his colours ,
the picture i painted of you ,
i used his canvas ,
his colours ,
his brushes ,
but u are not him ,
thats why u will never compare .
👁 1💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.