Brush Strokes Poem by Phil Soar

I felt it
Your pain
As if your painted portrait spoke a thousand words
That first draft sketch
At first your angst explained
But once in oils
Your face had changed
The pencil strokes
The brushes flight
Across the canvas
Warm and bright
The smile was there
But underneath
It showed your pain
But not your teeth
The end result a masterpiece
Of oils and turmoils
Mysteries
The picture in your face explained
The need to smile
Outside the pain