Like rain
I am an artist,painting on the walls
of my mind with
shaking hands,
storing whispers in
jars as my paint.
Occasionally,
my thoughts escape,
leaking our of my mind,
wet like fresh paint
and dripping like rain,
onto my notebook's
pages and into the
World,
were everyone can seem them
these words that might
have been mine...
Alone.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.