Sad Poems and a Glimmer of Hope

The Artist's Perspective

Golden honeycombs paint the skies.
Magenta clouds and rainbows glow,
Not even the artist knows where she will go,
Unsure of the progress she is making,
Hoping that she is not mistaking
A snowshoe hare from a bit of snow.
Lost in her own world,
Her harshest critic won't forgive her,
She already knows.
She considers starting all over.
Take a deep breathe and just press pause.
Close your eyes.
Remember the time you tried to dream,
And you were caught in your moment of peace.
Her Imagination cranks up,
And blends with creativity to spark a touch of light,
Her touch is so soft,
Her strokes pure and bright.
So tranquil and clean,
Her motions are precise and subtle like the moonlight.
Blissful teardrops adorn her eyes,
Giving anything wings hoping it could fly.
Transparent forests give a glimpse at the animals who roam it.
Abstract structures will stand the tests of time,
The wind filled with stardust,
The sand at her feet,
The waves crash against her skin,
Silent, but powerful.
Her whispers are screaming in her mind.
It's getting close to one
When the masterpiece is finally done.
She'll sit there for hours,
Headphones on, drowned out by the music.
The artist's easel on the floor with her by its side.
Admiring her work with a smile.
One day her name will be famous...
At least she will try.