Pain(t) and InkA Poem by ConstanceJust a memory, has no merit on today...Clouds scattered out upon a deepened blue The fresh ink on the virgin page seems so... Yet it is my eyes which threaten heavy rain
"I... wrote this," I stutter, "...I wrote... this... for you." Your blank expression speaking volumes, your throat clears "I'm sure it's nice, but I've never liked poetry..."
Love puddled into a form on a canvas, alive You just as I see you, strong and tall (I feel small) Yet my feelings are bigger than you...
"I... painted", I murmur, "...I painted this, it's you." There is a smirk playing at your lips, you breathe out.. "It doesn't look anything like me, but thanks, I guess..."
Veins shrinking inward to the core turned blue Ink and paint my last reminders of you, I keep To remind me how love can cause a rift If it is only one-sided
© 2008 ConstanceAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on June 5, 2008 Last Updated on June 5, 2008 AuthorConstanceA Small Town in, KSAboutI write about my past, my own real experiences. Even my poetry is inspired by my life. I was, I suppose, born writing, making up stories and rhymes from about when I started to speak, but had to wait .. more..Writing
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