With every brushstroke



I looked at a painting and it was blank as a page
Yet every brushstroke called out my name
I stepped into the thought to play the paintings game
Insanity was brought and it had me to blame
And the Gods were the witness to this message of truth
That every reason goes back to the root
So words did appear yet colour the proof and a TV was born and still did not move
Manifesting the meaning belief and construed
Rode on the pathway of eternal youth
And so lost was my body
But for this work of art
That I had never seen
Not even the start
Teleported to heaven
I walked straight on through
For it could not be there for me nor for you
And therefore this hell that I bring to you
As a life of lesson pain and perfume
Yet God was the witness to my poor demise
So he gave me a chance of a newer disguise
For the devil was lonely
And his hurt must move
For if it built it's mountain
The painting would be you
But live not in anger and the pit of your dispair
For when it's your time the angels will be there
Yet alas this is life so there will always be doubt
That this lesson you've learnt...
Might find it's own way out
Be the hero my friend and save your own life
For if nothing is real
Reality might thrive
In this home relativity shifts like the wind
So draw your sweet painting
For it's simple message to you
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Written on October 17, 2023

Submitted by heathert.34240 on October 17, 2023

1:21 min read
1

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABBBCDEFCGHIHJKKKLMMGEJKNNOPOQRSTUK
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 1,308
Words 266
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 35

Heather Lydia Thornhill

Moods and mindsets poetry. Published. Book in progress: Don't talk rot. more…

All Heather Lydia Thornhill poems | Heather Lydia Thornhill Books

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    "With every brushstroke" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/171501/with-every-brushstroke>.

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