Do I start with the brush?
Stroke after stroke after stroke, then begin dabbing at the rim for a drop of life,
Believability?
Do I quench my insecurities with a line of blue?
Do I soak my energy, sponge it onto the land and add splashes of the guilt within me?
Do I continue with the canvas?
Dividing wholly into it's end,
Do I frame my wonder in that wooly speech?
Do I frame, and hand my soul in the golden trees that I do not remember starting,
Do I place my worth in the reflecting rivers that I do not remember breathing?
Do I paint, do I fly, and do I sing?
Which one would the world prefer I bear the responsibility of doing?
Painting or framing souls?
-W.L.K
-2021, All works belong to me and are not to be published elsewhere or reproduced in any fashion without my permission.
YOU ARE READING
soulful sepia;
Poesiaa soulful sepia, a portrait of vulnerability and of the vulnerable, and what they mirror.
