in

failing to draw

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Art is in my mind

which is a fog intense

life has dealt blows

which have almost

flowed

with times of snow

this easel wobbles

and the canvas is aflutter

in gusts of trauma

as my brush goes haywire

not knowing the lines and curves

the glitter tube oozes gaudy and ugly

frames that make all go so yuk yuk

and the palette is a mute spectator

to hues that seem faded and dashed

how in the world can I draw?

and you, no my tears

have the acid and color!

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Written by Glower4

Glower is a writer cum poet who is a commoner endowed with uncanny gift of extreme and deep abstract thought resulting in astonishing written word.

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