My soul on a canvas
If I could paint my soul on a canvas
I would portray the inner me
A mix of all the possible colours
An earthly and heavenly potpourri
I would paint my soul as a flower
It's shades reflections of my mind
The buds representing my dreams
and the thorns what keeps me confined
A rose which shed it's blossoms
But it's petals falls one after another
For a flower without nourishment
will soon fade and smother
Oil paint or watercolour is irrelevant
It is the viewer who interpret what he sees
But it is him who master the paint brush
who possesses the knowledge and expertise
I can not paint my soul on a canvas
still, a rose is more captivating than it's thorn
And for each one of the falling petals
a new bud will be born.
My poetry index
