Leaving Behind the Endless Fields of Corn and Soybeans

Paint Stained Hands

I'm one of those people

That when asked

What I do for fun

Or what my hobbies are

I freeze up

I forget everything I enjoy

In that very moment

And just settle for a simple

I don't know

But I do know

Only when

I'm not being asked

Painting

Is one of my favorite pass times

I'm not necessarily good at it

But does it matter?

Do I have to be

Picasso

Or Di Vinci

Or Brenda Burke

To paint?

I didn't think I did

But if I do

Go ahead and let me know

So I can sell my paints and easels and brushes

I love to paint

Abstract

And other things

I can't really explain it

With words

I'd have to let you look through

All the canvases

That fill my walls

It's soothing

Freeing

It's like

I can leave this world

And enter the world of my paintings

I paint

Until my hands are covered in every color that I own

I paint

Until

It's even in my hair

And on my clothes

I paint until

There's no more white