(There are sort of versions of this one)
V
ersion 1
A blank canvas
A desire to fill it
The need to use only red
The need to share this part
Share what is hidden
The brush dips into the paint
Drawing straight lines down the canvas
One after another
The project takes a day
A week
A month
A year
Continues on not finished
The canvas is filled
The paint empty
The piece meant to be shared is lost
For the dead speak no words
Version 2
There once was a blank canvas
White and clean
Waiting to be marked
There once was a girl
Full of hurt
Of anger
And the need to release it
She found a canvas
She used only red paint
She used only straight lines
Up and down the canvas she painted
Line after line
It took a day
A week
A Month
A year.
Until where it was once clean, it was marked
And the paint empty
And All that is left was a red canvas
And a dead girl
The canvas is no longer blank
No longer clean
but completely full
The girl was no longer full of hurt
Of anger
For the canvas held all of it
And now she was empty
YOU ARE READING
The tragedies of life
شِعرThe beginning was rough but now we are here Where everything seems to be dark, and depressing I never planned on it coming to this but life has swept me away and dragged me under and now I'm trapped under a rock the current shackling me there and...
