The Canvas of My Life
My eyes appear forever glazed, unfixed, without purpose, continuously drifting along the blank canvas of my life. The monotonous repetition seemingly without an end, allowing my inner shadows to surface unnoticed, corrupting. Hopelessness is inevitable, so my eyes slow their pace, giving in to my bitter destiny.
Veins reach out from the edges of the drop, making its way between the fabric fibres, spreading over the surface. My eyes awaken to a sight of colour, a new sense of life flows through them. The shadows drip away onto the canvas, giving tone, depth and texture. Life is no longer a void. Your colours fill me, the impression of them creating my own Self. None of my shadows hide, but instead are a part of the art piece you made my life to be.
And all I can say to you are these most modest words. Thank you.
Honest opinions please... and no flaming.
I long to hear something written that brings someone a measure of hope rather than beating down their spirits as most of the 'literature' on this site does.
Well written...well done.
I really like it it sounds real. like you put hecka work into it. keep writing!
Thanks heaps. Always good to hear positive feedback.
I love it. it's so real:)
niccce =] Good job =]