Empty canvas

A Poem by Ali chahine

I use a brush.
I paint with love.
.
It gives things life,
And when I use that brush
I use my own blood as ink..
Pouring, drip, by drip, by drip.

Just to fuel the things that I do.

Sometimes,

I'll paint a little too much love.
On certain people, that I run out

I'll cry; for the ruined image.

For the lack of love I have to give left

...

....

As the tears drip
They fill the empty ink holder

With a new sense of life...

I dip the brush;;;

And slowly erase all that I have drawn,
as some time passed, all that was left
Was an empty canvas that looks,
like it's.
never been touched by

love