I Can Paint Too Poem by Jananie Balaji

O mighty brush, I'm but a frail Pen.
You colour the canvas and I fill the sheet
You spread the paints while I feast on inks
If painting is beautiful, penmanship is neat.

Many try to paint on canvas plain,
Those meticulous strokes and twists
And after ridiculous failures, return to me,
For they aren't one of those skilled artists.

But that doesn't mean a pen can't paint
That doesn't make me a joke
I can paint to express their delight
I can paint to show you they're broke

Often, I come to the rescue
When you, O brush are futile to the page
Nevertheless, my words can weave the magic,
And silently make one envisage

I can paint the hills in words
And describe a beach nearby
I can paint the smell of petrichor
I can write to answer one's cry

The imageries are plain
For the colours are yours to fill
You can go for bright or pale shades
Or simply choose not to spill

A thousand words are less
So are all young minds taught
That words are but weak forces
Where a picture is a juggernaut

But when a painting pleases the eye,
Words are pondered in the mind
Isn't that, my friend, the reason why
Even beloved Cupid is painted blind!