I grew up drawing everything I saw
From the trees to the creek,
and the earth to the sky
...
When the green comes back,
and the rivers shed white
All can come back, except the darkened light
...
Life Of An Artist
I grew up drawing everything I saw
From the trees to the creek,
and the earth to the sky
Some days even when the paints ran dry
and the canvas was bleak
I put my head into the clouds
Letting white fill the paper
Even at the times when the times were dire,
like the situations of fire
I drew my sadness, right through a sheet
Those were the days of great happiness
though now I look back and drop my brush
Letting all paints get spilled with blood