The Art Museum

A fancy sign and open door,

Is the entry where I found you.

Leaving me wanting more,

Eyes fixed to you like glue.

 

See, I dabble in the arts myself,

Though I haven’t had the time.

Paints and brushes left on a shelf,

Is really quite a crime.

 

But this weekend I got it back,

You showed me how.

The inspiration that I lack,

To use it, that I vow.

 

What I saw that claimed me so,

A tree that stood so strong.

The texture mixed in colorful glow,

Now where my heart belongs.

 

To me it is artistic,

The movement as it glides.

Though it is not realistic,

It’s where my fantasy hides.

 

Oh, to live in a world of such whimsical color!

Of crazy curves and texture.

I can make it mine for a dollar,

But that is not an adventure.

 

So now I know just what to do,

The images in my mind.

Thanks for giving me the clue,

My eyes have been so blind.

 

I’ll take it all off my shelf,

And watch it as it beams.

I’ll make it all for myself,

The world from my dreams.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741