Living in a dream.
This façade I have painted.
Purposes of survival.
Every stroke of the brush.
Harshly covering a beautiful canvas.
Canvas of love.
To wash away the paint.
Impossible.
Beneath, lays happiness.
Time flying high.
Don’t care why.
Glad it’s gone.
Wake to sunrise.
Break horizons dawn.
Illuminates red and golden strokes.
Journeys lay deeply above.
Pen in hand.
I will fight.
A painted canvas.
Is a new canvas.
Starved artists hate white.
Written March 12,2007 © Brooklynn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I see a dab hand at work with the impressionistic style here... t x