Storage Poem by poem whore

If I was to sit and think
about the world and everything
only the things that I know about
would come into play
so if I was to open my mind
and think paste my life
and not looking at a picture
but a painting passing through
time
then I wonder
if I am a color
or bristle maybe the handle
it could be as if maybe I am the artist
painting with all the colors of the light
that is in my life I write short and
to the point but there is depth
I drink often and am very much alone
but I know I am not the only one
meeting people and sleeping with them
is infact easy but to be in touch with there
soul is infact out of reach for most shallow
and thin is the (what) every one is
look deep inside yourself and find that
this in it's own way is a poem writen by
your eyes