A Painter's Hand
The day
With storm clouds galore
and dirty bedroom floors
Screaming
Wash them clean!
The day
With drowsy eyes
and worn-out sighs
Begging
To be over!
I say grab the pen
I whisper;
"Sprawl these words out on the page,"
Sifting through my vocabulary
Piecing together a masterpiece
for my eyes only.
In shades and colors of
Reds of blues
of purples and hues that shine on dull days
I scribble my words
With a painter's hand
Stain my shirt
With the understanding
That this is the way
to my smile
The path I take on the hardest days
to my glistening smile.
This passion
is the reason I have held my happiness to be felt within a brush and ink.
Letting the pen be my guide,
Joy is soon to join my side
And spread my mouth out wide,
Revealing the grin that hides
within my weary soul.