Proudly, I declare:
“I made this for you!”
A painting so full of color,
And bursting with energy.
A piece of my very soul.
But you steal the brush from my hands
And carefully correct the imperfect lines
extracting the life I injected lovingly
into the canvas
“There!” you say, grinning,
with such an upward tone in your voice.
Unaware of how grotesquely you corrupted
a simple gesture of my love.
1 comment:
Great poem. I'm not sure I can make any suggestions for improvement without "extracting the life" that you have put into it, hahaha.
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