Painted Poem by Chelsea Blick

They say paint makes a mess
Well now I finally see, but disagree
Its like memories that never
Ever wash out with water
No matter how much you scrub
Your permanently marked
Forever labeled, forever noticeable
The memories might sting,
They’re deep, stained even
But lets think optimistically
They say memories….
Only leaves behind a mess
Leaving pain, holding us back
But only if you think pessimistically
Though there might be a few
That I whish to discard,
I wouldn’t be able to look back
And be grateful like I am now
They keep me going now a days,
They’re what I breathe, and its fresh
Keep me standing, and though
The paint may seem like a mess to you
Like it has ruined me from the out
On the in I feel unique, and wear it proudly