Canvas

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this

But I tell you now, the story

Of the paint splattered canvas

Once white and bare

Awaiting kaleidoscopic ideas

Of painter, once in euphoria

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It wouldn’t have ended up like this

But here is the story

Of the birth of insecurities

Once unknown, some well managed

But words sowed seeds

In a painter, once self assured

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It shouldn’t have ended up like this

But the story is clear

The canvas white, no more

And awe no more, to its beholder

Because of unkind words and opinions

The painter, now in need of an inner mending