Whispers Of Our Soul

I Draw

I draw because it reminds me of him
See that pencil case
The one that's dented and rusting over?
That was his
Those are his pencils
His fingers touched them
His hand guided the tip across the
Paper
He created masterpieces with his
Pencils

I draw because he taught me to
When I too young to move
I would simply sit and watch him draw
He guided that pencil so smoothly
And when I was too young to talk
He would set me on his lap
And put my fingers over his thumb
Then he would draw
He created masterpieces
Underneath my hand

I draw because it's all I have left of him
I see him more clearly if I hold the
Pencil
I can almost touch him
If I make that line hard enough
I draw because it's his blood in me
That guides the pencil

It's the part of his soul
That creates the masterpiece
My hand is simply holding the brush
His hand holds the colors
I draw because he did too
And when that
Pencil
Touches the paper
I can feel him drawing
Right beneath my hand