Painting Thought Poem by Daegal

Made from different finger paints,
With blue and red and white and green,
Strange, odd shapes of unique form
I ask myself: what does it mean?

It’s made of my old finger prints,
Markings on the filtered scene,
Denoting individuality
I ask myself: what does it mean?

It has a passion yet unseen,
Harboured in it through and through,
My painted shapes mean more to me
Than they ever could to you.

End.