drank a coffee way past midnight
made sure to switch on every light.
felt my heart drumming in chest
as i painted away my stress.
then clenched hands until they bled
couldn't get it out my head.
these heavy thoughts stayed burdens
felt my brain grow sore and hurting.
what is passion? what is work?
why did painting simply irk?
aren't colours meant to dampen
all the emotions that are cramped in?
since when did brushes turn oppressive?
all these feelings grew excessive.
left panting drawing art
couldn't fathom when it start.
felt like a knife had stabbed my back
and i had a heart attack
became distant to my passion
my face quietly turned ashen.
for the colours had faded bleak
and i thought myself a freak.
what did i become to be?
sad and empty, lack of glee.
tore another painting whole
tried to stay good inside my soul.
but i knew that time had shifted
and away from love, i madly drifted...
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It (#Wattys2016)
Poetry| 1st Place for Summer Sun Awards (Beginner's Firsts) | | 2nd Place for the Pinpoint Awards | | Finalist for the 2016 Awards | It matters not what people think regarding things you believe strongly in. Perhaps, it may even help to even spread...
