Nearsighted, myopic, with this canvas of life;
smears and swatches of color without purpose.
Dark blots of heartache reside near unfinished lines of

Patches of bright colors, evidence of hope,
bleed onto each other where mess and chaos reign--
resulting in a murky swamp.

Swirls of confusion, harsh streaks of anger,
deep hues of love, and pastel peace;
Faint traces of uncertainty
scratched along a steady dark line of ink.
Careless trajectories of the pen's progression
are eventually brought back on course.

This deranged and disordered mayhem of color bewilders me.
I am unable to make sense of it.

Frustrated, I step back.
Two steps...
Twenty steps...
Two hundred steps...
A lifetime of steps.
I look at the canvas and realize that it is unique, incomparable.


Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem