Every time I think of love
There is simply a blank canvas
I do not know what to do with it
So I sit and wait for a while
I think of love
Quite often I might add
Yet somehow in some way
I know almost nothing about it
I know what others say love is
But I cannot help but disagree
If I thought they were right
My canvas would be full
Not white and void of color
Staring back at me blankly
My paints are always out
Ready to paint my image of love
So I can have it as a reference
To find the person that puts it into motion
One day I will have a colorful canvas
And a heart full of love
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryPoems I have written over the years. I plan to make this into an actual poem book in the future but for now, I am putting them on here to see if they are any good. I hope you like them.
